Untouchable Part 3
by ohiodreamz42gmail.com
Summary: Inquisitor Shrock brings the pain, while Frost comes into his own
**Untouchable**

 **Part 3 The Ophidian Insurrection**

 **Chapter 16**

"Could you please explain to me why you found it necessary to throw yourself from a second story window?" Shrock had a stupid grin on his face. A medic was carefully cutting the boot from my horribly swollen ankle.

I looked up sharply, "You know exactly why I did it. I'm sure you've watched the log by now. You're just here because you're a sadistic bastard and wouldn't dare pass on a chance to see me suffer." I was sitting on a gurney in the infirmary of the Inquisition's Ophidian Headquarters. Shrock hadn't wasted any time in taking the building over and repurposing it for our current operations.

"Corporal, I'm hurt you'd even think such a thing." He said in the most concerned sounding voice he could possibly muster. "In fact, I care so deeply about your welfare that I came rushing down as soon as I heard you'd been injured." He politely pushed the medic aside, "Here, let me help you with that." Before I could say a word to stop him, he reached down with both hands and ripped the boot completely off my injured foot.

I gritted my teeth and grunted in pain, "You son of a whore! You piece of shit! That hurt like fragging hell! You better hope you're not around when they fix this foot, cause' when they do I'm gonna shove it so far up your ass, you're gonna have to call this medic back up so he can surgically remove it…FROM YOUR ASS!"

"My, my, aren't you the articulate one," Shrock chuckled, "I really hope you don't kiss your mother with that mouth." I stared at him in such a way that couldn't have left a doubt in his mind as to the many very painful things I was planning to do to him.

"Relax Corporal, you'll have all the time in the world to try and enact any and all of your pitiful plans of retribution… _after our work here is done_." He reached back and similarly ripped my sock off, causing me to once again wince and grunt in excruciating pain. "By the Emperor, it appears that your own colossal stupidity has finally caught up with you." He carefully examined the extensive amount of damage the fall had done to my ankle.

"Inquisitor, I hope you had a better reason for coming here than to satisfy your own silly need to give me a hard time." He again tried to touch the injured limb, but I stopped him short by placing a hand on my sidearm, "Don't even think about it."

He put his hands up in feigned capitulation, "Okay, okay, I surrender. Though however much I do enjoy watching you suffer, I sincerely wish you wouldn't have injured yourself." He beckoned the medic to come back and continue his work. "Is there any possibility he'll be able to go on another mission before the night's over?"

"No Inquisitor, it's sprained pretty badly; it'll be at least three days before he'll be able to walk on this foot again," the medic replied.

"Well that is completely unacceptable. Is there nothing you can do that will have him up and moving before sunrise?" There was more than a little annoyance in his voice, "I desperately need him to handle a matter of grave importance before it's too late."

Now that brought a smile to my face, "I'm sorry; could you repeat that, I swear I just heard you say that you needed me."

I could tell by the look on his face that he was through playing games, "Yes Corporal; that is what you heard." My look of confusion prompted him to continue, "Being that Captain Drennan's been shot multiple times and is going to be out of commission for at least the next week; you are now the only person I have left with the capability of being sent to Minister Hult's house with the sole intention of killing him. Who, because of your failure to prevent security from notifying that we had in fact rescued Interrogator Trist; is now preparing to go into hiding. Along with an unknown number of Planetary Security's highest ranking officials I might add."

That arrogant prick, "Listen here you prick; we went in and got the job done to the best of our ability. So if you think you could have done it any fraggin' better, maybe you should have brought your lily-ass in with us so you could have at least made sure it was done to your own god-damned satisfaction." My voice was full of contempt.

"You misunderstand," He began, "I watched your log and much to my surprise, you accomplished your mission with supreme efficiency. You and Captain Drennan in my opinion; are both two very skilled, and highly competent operators. I wouldn't dare suggest that given the same set of circumstances I could have completed the mission any more successfully than you two already have. In fact, Inquisitor Voke and I both fully expected that no matter what you did, someone would inevitably call Minister Hult and inform him of what was happening. I do admit however, that we both sincerely hoped this wouldn't be the case. But seeing as how it is the case; we had a contingency plan already made up; which because of your injury is now impossible to enact."

I looked at him for a minute, taking this all in before speaking, "Well hell Shrock, if you need him killed tonight that badly; why not handle it yourself? From what Inquisitor Voke tells me, you're more than capable of accomplishing the mission on your own."

He smiled, "I said the same thing myself, and once I'd found out you'd been hurt; that's exactly what I planned to do. But Inquisitor Voke - in all his infinite wisdom - informed me that under no circumstance was I to even think about killing Minister Hult on my own."

"Oh I get it; you guys will put me in the shit without a second thought because I'm just another disposable asset. Whereas you, on the other hand, are far too valuable to risk losing. Well, I guess it's nice to know exactly where I stand around here."

"Actually, your reasoning couldn't be further from the truth. And if you'd just stop and think about it for a second instead of acting like a pariah, you would see why it is that I cannot be the one to do it."

I sat there and thought about what he'd said for a moment before responding, "Nope. I can't see any other reason beside the one I've already stated. You guys are just a couple of assholes who could seriously give a rat's ass about sending me somewhere you wouldn't even consider going yourself."

The medic chuckled, "Sounds about right to me"

Shrock shot him an evil look, "I don't recall anyone asking for your opinion. So if you'd just shut your mouth and figure out exactly how you're going to have him up and walking by tomorrow; I'll kindly refrain from pulling out my bolter and _not_ use it to pistol-whip you into unconsciousness." The medic shut up and immediately got back to his examination of my foot.

Shrock looked back to me, "Corporal, what do you think would happen if I were to do as you suggest, somehow fail, and end up killed in the process? Wait, don't speak; I'm sure you're too stupid to answer the question correctly, so I'll just tell you. If, however unlikely it may be, that I were to be killed while trying to do the same to Minister Hult; he'd then be able to use my body as evidence to prove his theory of a corrupt Inquisition conspiring to do nefarious things against the people of Ophidia."

"Now, if it were to happen that you were killed, trying to accomplish the same mission, we would then still be able to maintain some level of plausible deniability, and could therefor continue to operate effectively on this planet. So yes, you are right in the assumption that I could probably accomplish the mission just as effectively as you, but have failed to take into consideration the consequences of my possible failure, over your own."

He paused then to watch me slowly come to accept the soundness of his logic. "Okay," I said, "I'm sorry for implying that you're a coward. But if that's the case, and you definitely need him killed tonight, just wrap this damn thing up as tight as you can and I'll get the fraggin' job done. You just give me that fat bastard's address and I'll make it happen… _no matter how much pain I'm in_."

He looked at me for a long moment before responding, "Corporal, I respect your sense of duty and dedication more than you could possibly understand. But as much as it pains me to say; you are in all actuality, far too valuable to be sent on a mission as dangerous as this at anything less than one hundred percent of your considerable capabilities."

By the Emperor I hate when he does this shit. Every time I've just finished making up my mind to kick his fragging ass; he forces me to reconsider that decision with another very articulate and well-placed compliment. It wouldn't feel right kicking his ass after all that. I guess I'll just have to wait until he pisses me off again, and knowing Shrock as well as I do; I wouldn't have to wait long.

The medic picked that moment to speak up, "I can have this fixed by tomorrow, but I highly doubt you're gonna like what I have to do get it done in that timeframe."

Inquisitor Shrock grinned, "He's a big boy, I'm sure he can handle a shot or two of nano-bots."

"Nano-bots?" I asked; not liking the sound of it at all.

The medic looked up to Shrock who nodded his head, "Nano-bots," he began, not wanting to look me in the eye for some reason, "are microscopic machines suspended in an anti-inflammatory solution. When injected, they instantly go to work repairing simple injuries; such as the one you have now at the cellular level. They're the fastest way possible to fix this type of injury, and can completely heal your ankle within the next six hours."

I looked at him dubiously, I'd never heard of such a thing. But that didn't surprise me in the least. This was the Inquisition, and the fact they had access to technologies I'd never even heard of was not at all hard for me to believe. His reluctance to administer them however, led me to believe there was something he wasn't telling me. "So what's the holdup?" I asked, "What aren't you telling me and why won't you even look me in the eye as you suggest this course of action?"

The medic looked back to Inquisitor Shrock who said, "Go ahead… tell him." By the sadistic grin that was growing wider on Shrock's face, I was very much beginning to think I wanted absolutely no part of these so-called nano-bots.

The medic looked back up to me, "Honestly… they hurt like hell. It's a very painful procedure and you'll be wishing you were dead by the time they finish. It's so painful in fact, that I'd really just rather wrap this thing up and let it heal on its own."

I laughed, "You see this arm?" I asked proffering him my prosthesis, "I ripped the damn thing off myself; and despite the excruciating amount of pain I was in, went on to kill a Chaos Marine with the one I had left. So I highly doubt I won't be able to handle whatever it is you're about to give me. So bust em' already and let's get it the hell over with!"

He looked back to Shrock who just nodded his head, "You told him what you had to. Do it. I would however, strongly suggest that you exit this room immediately after you administer the injection; you can very well trust I'll be doing the same."

"Yes Inquisitor," the medic reluctantly reached into his bag and removed a stainless steel case. He then opened the case to reveal a very large syringe; filled with a substance that looked to be some form of liquid metal. He looked up to me, "I want you to remember that I strongly advised against this and am only proceeding at your own continued insistence."

"Look buddy, you told me what was going to happen and I told you to go ahead and do it. No matter how much this hurts, I promise, I won't track you down and try to kill you. So go ahead and do it already."

"Alright man you asked for it." He took the cap off of the syringe and proceeded to carefully inject the liquid into various spots all around my now deformed looking ankle.

"Let's go before they turn themselves on." Shrock said. He then looked at me with that damned grin of his, "We'll be back whenever you're done screaming." With that they both made a very hasty exit, shutting and locking the door behind them as they went.

I laughed at the both of them. Just who in the hell do they think I am? I'm a god-damned Storm Trooper for Emperor's sake. No microscopic anything was gonna make me scream. I can't believe...

 _Oh my god that fragging hurts!_

I'm not even going to attempt to describe the ridiculous amount of pain I endured over the next four hours. I'll just say this; try to imagine your bones being eaten from the inside out by sulfuric acid, while simultaneously having your skin melted off by a laze-rifle on its lowest setting. If you can imagine that, then you'll only half-know what an Emperor forsaken shot of Nano-bots feels like. I'm not ashamed in the least to admit the pain brought tears to my eyes; but not once did I cry out. Like I said, I'm a fraggin' Storm Trooper; there are some things we just don't do, no matter how much we may want.

I must say however, that the bots worked exactly as advertised. I could actually see them fixing my ankle right before my eyes. Once you get past the pain, they're quite honestly the most amazing piece of medical technology I'd ever seen. I knew they'd finally finished the job when the silver colored liquid the medic had originally injected, broke through my skin, and leaked out onto the floor; leaving behind a completely healed and normal looking ankle when it did.

I was jumping up and down on my completely restored ankle when Inquisitor Shrock and the medic came back to check my progress. The medic looked right at me, smiled, and was just about to say something when I leveled him with a vicious right cross to the face.

"What the hell man?!" Blood leaked from one side of his mouth, "You said you wouldn't hurt me when this was all over."

"Correction; I said I wouldn't kill you, I never said I wouldn't kick your ass." I looked over to Shrock who immediately backed up a step, "And don't even think I've forgotten about you. I fully intend on kicking your ass whenever our work here is all said and done with."

Shrock quickly regained his composure, "I think when that day comes; you'll find that I'm significantly more capable of defending myself than this poor sot." He then changed to a more serious tone, "All that aside Corporal; we'll be heading to Planetary Security within the next three hours to have some fun with whatever remains of high command. So I suggest you get something to eat, take a shower, and get yourself ready before it's time for us to depart."

"I take it he had the list." I said putting voice to what seemed to be an obvious assumption.

"No Corporal, he didn't; but he did tell us where we could find it.

Despite what you may think, you and Captain Drennan are not the only two people that work for me. While you were in here crying like a little girl, I went ahead and sent one of the many other operatives in this taskforce to retrieve it."

When he mentioned Captain Drennan's name I suddenly realized I'd yet to ask of his condition, "How is he by the way? Is he going to be alright?" My voice displayed a significant amount of concern I had for the person I honestly considered to be my only friend. "And don't you even give me any shit Shrock," I said in an attempt to stop the numerous insults I'm sure were in process of being formed within his brain.

"Corporal, you're beginning to know me far too well," he said, "Captain Drennan will be fine… but just barely. The last bullet that hit him, completely tore through his armor, punctured a lung, and grazed his heart in the process. If it would have been just a millimeter or so to the right, he'd have been killed him outright. But as it stands, he should make a full recovery and be back to busting your proverbial chops in no time." He paused for a moment and I watched as that damned grin slowly began to reform itself, "Are you happy? I did as you asked without once mentioning that the level of concern apparent in your voice has undoubtedly made you sound like a flaming homosexual." He couldn't fragging help himself, could he? This prompted the medic who was just now getting back up to burst into laughter again. I promptly shut him up with another well placed punch to the face.

 **Chapter 17**

I roamed aimlessly through the massive structure that was the Inquisition's permanent headquarters for their continuous maintained presence on Ophidia Three. I guess one of the requirements for being a member of the Inquisition is an affinity for gothic themed décor, because every part of the building I walked through looked eerily similar to that of Inquisitor Voke's ship. So much so in fact, that if I didn't know any better you could have easily convinced me that I'd never left his cruiser.

As I walked the halls I passed numerous operatives who all looked like they were very busy doing one unknown thing or another. Every once in a while I would stop someone and ask for directions and would invariably get the response that they were all very busy and had absolutely no idea where my quarters were. I guess they were all just as unfamiliar with the building's layout as me. After about an hour of wandering aimlessly, I found an unsecured computer terminal that I then used to locate my quarters.

I entered my room to find that it too was very similar to the one I had on Inquisitor Voke's ship. It was slightly smaller but still boasted a very large and comfortable looking bed, that being as how I'd now been up for over twenty-four hours, was seductively calling my name; begging me to just give it a try and lay down for a few minutes.

I'd almost given in to my desire to grab some much needed sleep when my door chimed just in time to prevent me from making a very dumb decision. If I would have fallen asleep, I definitely wouldn't have woken up in time to accompany Shrock. If he would have had to come and get me out of bed I'd have never heard the end of it.

I answered the door to find a servitor-bot waiting patiently with a tray full of some of the most delicious looking food I'd ever seen. I took the tray from it and brought the food in to a table in the corner of my room. I sat down and promptly inhaled every last bite, barely taking the time to savor the flavors of a much deserved breakfast. I then jumped in the shower, cleaned myself up, and finished by brushing my teeth and shaving my face.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, a clean set of fatigues and a new pair of boots were waiting on the bed for me along with my sidearm and power-sword lying next to them in their perspective holsters. It seems I'm moving up in the world, because I'd never before been treated to this level of service; I could definitely get used to this.

After I finished getting dressed, I took a look at my chronometer and realized that I still had about an hour before I was supposed to meet Shrock. To pass the time I turned on my vid-screen to check the local news so I could get somewhat of a feel for the current situation on Ophidia Three.

The first thing I saw was a picture of Inquisitor Shrock's very angry looking face plastered across the screen. It was subtitled, "Imperium sends Inquisition to investigate recent acts of terrorism and possible corruption within Planetary Government." I was putting my boots on when the screen changed to a video clip of him leaning threateningly over a very intimidated looking Minister Hult. The clip didn't have sound but it was blatantly obvious that Shrock was in the process of chewing the fat bastard completely up one side and down the other, poking him hard in the chest as he did. I found the whole scene rather comical and couldn't help but smile as the Inquisitor gave Minister Hult an extremely long and drawn out piece of his mind.

The newscast then changed to show a short comment that Shrock had given the local media, "I'd like the people of Ophidia to know, that the Imperium cares very deeply for your wellbeing and continued prosperity. So much so that I have been authorized to bring down the full weight of my Inquisitorial power in an effort to help solve the problems the people of this wonderful planet are currently facing." I almost didn't recognize him as he said all of this with the most pleasant looking face I'd ever seen.

One of the reporters then asked why he'd come so quickly, which caused his expression to change back to that of the angry Shrock we all knew and loved. "I have come here with the sole intention of rooting out the corruption that now plagues the very government that has sworn to protect the people of this planet." He stared directly into the camera, effectively making it seem as if he were looking his viewership right in the eye. "And I want anyone out there who is watching this to know, that the justice I dish out upon these traitors will be very swift and extremely brutal. And furthermore; I will personally execute any member of this planet's government whom I find does not have the best interests of the people of Ophidia and the Imperium at the very heart of everything they do." The way he said that last part sent a chill up my spine; so I could only imagine how it would affect the millions of people watching that didn't even know him.

The newscast flipped over to a couple of pundits vehemently arguing the question of whether the Inquisition's arrival was a good thing for the people of Ophidia or not. I didn't care to listen to the political banter so I turned off the screen, strapped on my holsters, and headed to wait for Shrock by the motorcade.

I stepped off the elevator and into the building's lobby; which at first glance was clearly designed to instill upon visitors an unmistakable feeling of the Inquisition's total dominance through its unmatched power and authority. It was a truly massive space that was completely decked out in black marble and matching granite surfaces all perfectly polished to a mirror finish everywhere I looked. The lobby was also a very busy place with operatives milling about back and forth, with no less than twenty armed men guarding it. All of whom were dressed in full body armor with combat masks and brandishing assault bolters just like the one I'd carried the night before. I guess the powers that be, thought there was a high probability of a secondary attack, because in both rear corners of the lobby were heavy machine gun emplacements; each manned by an additional three guards wearing power-suits very similar to those typically worn by a Storm Trooper.

I was just about to walk out when I was stopped by a very pretty female operative, "Excuse me, Corporal Frost?"

I looked her up and down and couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since I'd gotten laid, "Yeah, that's me."

Her face portrayed the same sense of purpose and sincerity I'd come to expect from all operatives of the Inquisition, "Before you leave I'm supposed to issue you a badge and this mask to conceal your identity." She handed me a badge suspended from a chain that was meant to be hung around my neck. It looked like a standard issue policeman's, except in its center, instead of a shield, was an embossed image of the Rosette of the Inquisition. Across the top of the badge was the word, "Operative" and similarly across the bottom were the letters, "H.M.M.H.I" for, "His Majesty's Most Holy Inquisition." I placed it around my neck and took the black cloth mask from her that had holes for my mouth and eyes cut into it. I thanked her and pulled the mask over my head before stepping outside and onto the sidewalk.

Upon exiting I was greeted by a maelstrom of media, all held at bay by very flimsy crowd control barriers with not so flimsy members of the local police standing behind them. I'd never before seen so many video-cameras and microphones in one place, all of which were held by people desperately jockeying for the closest positions to the crowd control barriers.

I guess they were waiting to hear from Shrock, because not one of them paid a single bit of attention to me. Good, let him deal with these damned vultures, I wanted absolutely no part of it. As I shielded my eyes from dozens of blinding flashes, I made a mental note to be sure and thank the pretty girl who'd given me this mask, because if there's one thing I hate more than drop-suits, it's having my picture taken.

I approached a group of operatives who were dressed exactly as I was with masked faces and badges displayed prominently. Even though I was also wearing a mask; they knew exactly who I was by the one characteristic that's impossible for me to hide; my size. I was easily the largest man in our group and was not at all surprised when some of them patted me on the shoulder and told me good job.

The men engaged in playful banter, cracking jokes here and there about how the government officials we were about to visit would probably wet their pants as soon as they saw us. As I listened to the supreme confidence in their voices, I could only wonder if any of them had been a part of the group Shrock had brought to arrest me. They'd just finished laughing at a particularly crude joke one of them had made calling into question Minister Hult's sexuality when the crowd of reporters just a couple of meters away suddenly broke into an unbridled series of rapid-fire questions, all precipitated by the name, "Inquisitor Shrock."

I looked back to see him stepping out of the building flanked by a couple of very large operatives. He was immaculately dressed in a perfectly starched and pressed set of black fatigues with a very expensive looking black overcoat that hung flowingly from his shoulders all the way to the ground. He also wore his long black hair pulled tightly into his trademark ponytail with his Rosette of the Inquisition displayed prominently around his neck. He completed the ensemble with a knee-high pair of perfectly polished black combat-boots and a couple of very large golden rings adorning his fingers.

All in all, I must say, that dressed as he was now, he cut a pretty striking and intimidating impression. I was amazed at how clearly he could project the image of someone who was in complete and total control of the situation. As he walked to face the reporters, he moved with an air of supreme confidence and authority that easily made clear to anyone watching that he was definitely not a man to be trifled with.

He stood to face the group of rabid reporters who were now all screaming and fighting over who would get to ask the first question. He raised his hand in an effort to calm them so he could give a statement, but that just seemed to fan the flames of their growing insanity. He finally got frustrated waiting for them to quiet down and in the most forceful voice I'd ever heard him use, looked at them all and said, "Silence!"

To my utter amazement, every single member of the press-core instantly and without hesitation, stopped talking. Whatever he'd done hit them so unexpectedly that many of them were left with their mouths hanging wide open.

I looked over to the operative nearest me and whispered, "What the hell did he just do?"

"He's a psyker," the man replied, "If he tries hard enough, he can force weak minded people to do very simple things. These reporters are all a bunch of idiots; so it doesn't surprise me that he shut them up with just one word." As he said this, I was forced to wonder if for some reason I weren't untouchable, if Shrock wouldn't be able to do such an unsettling thing to me.

He scanned the stunned group of reporters until his eyes settled on a distinguished looking gentleman standing towards the front. "I only have time to answer one or two questions," he said to the man who was just now getting over whatever it was that had been done to him, "So I expect them to be very short and to the point. You Sir; can go ahead; the rest of you are to remain quiet or I will have you all forcibly removed from the area. Have I made myself clear?" All of them nodded dumbly in agreement. Shrock then looked back to the reporter he'd selected.

"Inquisitor Shrock," the man began, "Could you please respond to the allegations Minister Hult leveled against you in a written statement submitted to the planetary media this morning accusing the Inquisition of last night's attack on the facility Interrogator Lokin Trist was being detained in."

"Yes I most certainly can," Inquisitor Shrock said in a very commanding voice. "I think that given the fact that at the present moment, the illustrious Minister Hult is nowhere to be found, speaks volumes. I believe he's gone into hiding because he is well aware of the fact that I have recently uncovered incontrovertible evidence of his own corruption, and currently have every intention of putting a bullet into the back of his traitorous skull. As for the bombing of the facility that held Interrogator Trist; I can honestly tell you that I had absolutely no prior knowledge of its existence until I'd seen the reports of its destruction, early this morning." I smiled at how easily Shrock could tell a lie.

He continued, "Furthermore, Minister Hult is the only person who could have possibly benefited by the destruction of that building. He must have been under the impression that by destroying that site, he'd be silencing the only witness to his own treacherous role in what really happened during the attack on this building. So I think it's blatantly obvious to anyone with half a brain in their head, that it was in fact Minister Hult who was actually behind the whole thing." Shrock's explanation was so well put-together and believable that it almost convinced even me that I'd had nothing to do with the bombing.

The man who'd just asked the question suddenly seemed very interested in whatever was being whispered to him by his assistant. "Inquisitor Shrock, it seems that Minister Hult has just resurfaced on the eastern continent. And from what I've just been told; he, along with a number of Planetary Security's high command, and the leaders of the eastern provinces, have all just declared their complete and total independence from the Imperium. Could you please respond?"

This sudden and unexpected revelation caught Inquisitor Shrock completely off guard. He stood there quietly for a long moment before answering, "Well it would appear I have arrived just in time." He paused for another long moment, "I'm headed to Planetary Security's headquarters now, after I'm finished with my business there, I'll be able to more fully deal with this unfortunate turn of events. However, before I go I would like to send a message to the people of the eastern provinces."

He picked one of the many cameras recording his every word and stared right into it, "I will absolutely, not tolerate any form of insurrection against the legitimate government of Ophidia, and I will categorically execute any man or woman who heeds their call and takes up arms against those forces still loyal to the Emperor and his Imperium which I've sworn to protect. Thank you, no further comments."

The crowd of reporters erupted into an absolute frenzy that was just about one punch shy of becoming a full-blown riot. Shrock paid them no attention and quickly approached the group I was standing in. He pointed to one of the men standing beside me, "I want every one of those parasites gone by the time I get back. And you will inform them; that anyone caught trying to gain unauthorized access to this facility will be shot immediately and without question."

"Yes Inquisitor," the man said before running off.

He then looked over to me as an operative opened the back door of the land cruiser he'd be riding in, "You're coming with me."

We both jumped into the back of the long black luxury cruiser with completely blacked out windows. Once we were seated comfortably within, the operative shut the door behind us. I removed my mask as Shrock lowered the divider separating us from the driver's compartment, "Take us to Planetary Security and while you're at it, get Inquisitor Voke on the line."

We remained stationary for about another minute while the rest of the operatives and local police all loaded up into each of their perspective cruisers. Just as the motorcade started forward, a vid-screen unfolded from the roof; on its display was a very displeased looking Inquisitor Voke.

"I take it you've heard the news," Shrock began.

"Yes Damon, I have. I'd thought this might be something they'd eventually try to do, but I must admit I'm completely caught off guard by how quickly they've resorted to what I'd always considered to be their last possible course of action. I'm quite frustrated because I feel this could have all been easily prevented had Corporal Frost not decided to throw himself out of a window." He then looked to me, "Corporal, when you were running towards that window and you saw exactly how far down the ground really was, did it even once occur to you, that there is in all actuality, a very good reason why people had invented staircases and elevators?"

Shrock had to put his hand over his mouth to prevent himself from laughing. This prompted Voke to instantly look back to him, "Inquisitor, you must forgive me if I fail to see what it is you find so amusing about civil war." I could actually see his blood pressure rising, "Which because of his injury" Inquisitor Voke exploded, " _IS EXACTLY WHAT'S ABOUT TO GOD-DAMNED HAPPEN DOWN THERE_!" Seeing him loose it must of been as unsettling for Shrock as it was for me, because he immediately got ahold of himself.

"Sir I'm sorry, I didn't have…" He cut me off.

"SHUT UP! I know very well you didn't have any better options at the time. I haven't come down there and shot you yet; _HAVE I_?!" He stared at me coldly before taking a very deep breath to calm himself. He sat silently for a moment before continuing, "I'm just a little upset at myself for not giving Inquisitor Shrock the go ahead to kill Minister Hult last night. I honestly thought it would take a lot longer for them to do this sort of thing."

He paused for another moment before pressing on, "But seeing as how they've done the unexpected, we need to react accordingly. The most important thing at this present moment is the protection of Ophidia's legitimate leader, President Corbin Dukaat. Their next move will probably be an attempt on his life. I have checked over Inquisitor Andoren's files on the President and despite the fact that he found him to be an extremely weak leader; did believe him to be devout in his service to the Emperor and a true patriot of the Imperium."

Shrock leaned forward, "Driver, take us to the Presidential Palace."

"No, no, Damon," Inquisitor Voke said quickly, "Go ahead and take care of your business at Planetary Security; I've already dispatched operatives to secure him. He's safe for the moment and I'm having him moved to an unknown location. The President and I spoke this morning and he is willing to follow orders in an effort to keep this planet from falling into complete and utter chaos. Having said that, we absolutely cannot allow him to be killed; if he dies, we will lose control over the people of this planet who are still loyal to the Imperium. As it stands, our forces greatly outnumber those of the enemy and it will remain that way as long as their legitimate elected leader remains in power."

"Driver did you hear that?" Inquisitor Shrock asked.

"Yes Inquisitor, we're still headed for Planetary Security."

An idea struck me then, "Inquisitor, if you're absolutely sure there's going to be an attempt on the President's life, why don't we take advantage of it?"

"I'm listening Corporal," he said without the slightest hint that he was just trying to humor me.

"This should be good." Inquisitor Shrock's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Give him a chance Damon. Corporal, go ahead and tell me what it is you have in mind." Inquisitor Voke said in all seriousness.

I looked at them both now completely unsure of myself. I'm used to being told what to do, now I was about to offer my opinion on how we should proceed to the two most powerful men I'd ever met.

"Well spit it out Corporal; so we can all have a good laugh at your expense and then move on to discuss a plan that will actually work." Shrock said in his usual arrogant manner.

"Well Inquisitor," I was still unsure of myself but also unwilling to throw out what I thought to be a perfectly good idea, "If you're absolutely sure there's going to be an attempt on the President's life, then we should go ahead and let them do it." Confusion was now clearly displayed on both their faces.

I pressed on, "Think about it; there's only one group of people they would actually send to do that job, right? And seeing as how sooner or later we're going to have to deal with the Chaos Marines that are on this planet; we should be there waiting for them whenever they decide to show up. I think you should go ahead and move the President to a safe location, but make it appear as if we have kept him right where he is. So whenever they do attack you can have me right there waiting for them; with as many troops, machine guns, and heavy weapons as you can possibly give me."

Shrock was speechless and so was Inquisitor Voke. They both stared at me for a very long time before Inquisitor Voke finally spoke up, "My dear boy, we may just make an Inquisitor out of you yet! I must say that that is truly one of the most brilliant ideas I've ever heard. But I do have one question; do you actually think you can pull it off?"

"Of course he can't pull it off!" Shrock violently interjected, "It's a god-damned suicide mission for Emperor's sake! They aren't just going to be sending one or two Marines to kill the President; they'll be sending one or two squads. We could be talking about twenty fragging Marines here!" He snorted derisively, "Now as much as I would just love to see Corporal Frost meet a very untimely and equally painful end; I can't justify wasting his life in some foolhardy attempt to kill that many Marines. I mean, we do have tanks at our disposal, and the last time I checked, everyone knows that nothing short of calling in tanks, _and I mean a whole bunch of them_ , is a good way to kill that many Marines."

"I can do it." I said forcefully, "Or we can just let them do what they do best; kick our asses all over the field of battle. Now I know you think twenty Marines is impossible to handle, but I say allowing twenty Marines to go unchecked in a wartime situation is even more impossible to handle."

"Besides, we'll never know exactly where they're at to even call in the tanks. Right now we know exactly where they're going to be, with a pretty good idea of when they're going to be there; and we absolutely cannot afford to pass up this incredibly rare opportunity."

"Inquisitor, I'm a god-damned Storm Trooper for Emperor's sake; if you can tell me where the enemy's going to be, and actually give me what I need to kill them, you can rest assured; _that I will god-damned fragging kill them_!"

Inquisitor Voke looked at me for a very long time before speaking, "Well Corporal, I'm sold. I'm going to give you everything you need to accomplish your mission. I just hope like hell I'm not sending you to an untimely death. Inquisitor, your objections are duly noted, but we simply cannot afford to pass on an opportunity that could be as devastating to the enemy as this one clearly has the potential of being."

Inquisitor Shrock looked at the both of us, "Both of you are out of your god-damned minds. I'll have absolutely no part in any of this foolishness. Corporal Frost, I truly respect your bravery and can now clearly see how it is that you won the Imperial Cross. You won it because you are far too stupid to realize when your own misguided actions are about to get you killed."

"When you're gone, I will honestly miss being able to point out to you how truly stupid it is that you really are. So when you do die, and trust me, if you try this, you _will_ die, I'll make sure to have the words, "Corporal Mabien Frost, by far the dumbest man I've ever met" engraved upon your tombstone."

"Inquisitor, I'm going to kill every single marine who shows up to that palace, and though I am prepared to die for my Emperor, I know that I will not. I will be successful in my mission and when I'm done I'll be sure to remind you every day of what a coward you were at the mere thought of going into battle against a few Chaos Marines." I looked at him in a way that told him I was absolutely sure that I would be successful in all I'd claimed I could do.

Shrock looked at me for a long while, "What aren't you telling me

Corporal? What is it that's making you so sure you can actually pull this thing off?" His face was full of suspicion.

I hesitated for a minute before realizing that if I wanted to do this I'd have to put it all on the table, "Because Inquisitor, I know this might sound insane, but when I was in that hospital bed, lying there in a coma somewhere between life and death; the Emperor spoke to me." Even as I said this, I felt I was surely about to force the both of them to call my sanity into question.

Shrock was speechless for a long moment before getting ahold of himself, "You see what I'm saying? He has clearly lost his god-damned mind, he actually thinks that the…" Inquisitor Voke cut him off.

"Shut up Damon, I want to hear this. Corporal, what is it that the

Emperor said to you?" His face told me that I had his complete and utter attention.

There was no going back, I had to tell them, "Well, he didn't speak to me directly, he sent my best friend to speak on his behalf. The Emperor was the sun and I could see his face whenever I looked to the sky; so I know everything Gunney said was truly the word of god." Now I had their complete attention, I looked to Voke, "Gunney Christoff told me that you would come and take me under your wing. He told me you were a great man and I was to learn everything I possibly could from you. He also told me exactly what it was the Emperor had created me to be. Gunney said that I was created to be a weapon; which if I remember correctly, is the exact same thing you called me after I'd finished looking at your book."

I pressed on despite the look of disbelief Inquisitor Voke was now displaying, "You see; even though I didn't know it at the time, I already knew you were coming to see me… because the Emperor told me that you would. I've never told anyone about this dream, because I was absolutely sure that no one would ever believe me, and that I'd get the exact same reactions as the ones you are both clearly having right now. But I cannot impress upon either of you enough, how truly certain I am at this very moment, that that dream was the Emperor speaking to me."

I then looked over to Shrock, "And to answer your question on how it is that I'm so absolutely certain that I'll be successful; is because killing these Marines is exactly what the Emperor commanded me to do. He told me in no uncertain terms, that he created me with only one purpose in mind; that I were to kill as many of his traitorous children as I possibly can before I die."

"Now, I don't consider myself to be a religious man in the very least, but even I know when God tells you to do something, you very well better fragging do it! So with or without your help, I'm going to that palace to do what it is he's told me to… or die trying."

The cruiser became uncomfortably silent as they both stared long and hard. I was beginning to think they were going to take me to the nearest sanitarium they could possibly find when Inquisitor Voke broke the silence, "I believe you."

Shrock's mouth hit the floor, "Are you fragging kidding me?!" He asked incredulously, "This man tells you that the Emperor actually spoke to him and you believe it?! Both of you have lost your fragging minds. Corporal, I've always known that you were incredibly stupid, but not once, _not once,_ did it ever occur to me that you were also insane. Which after hearing everything you've just said, can be the only possible explanation for your continued insistence that the Emperor himself actually came down off his Golden Throne and commanded you to do something that is clearly impossible for _anyone_ to do."

"Shrock, in the words of Captain Drennan," I stared him right in the eye "I'm a fragging Storm Trooper; when someone tells me something is impossible to do, they're usually just saying to me that it's probably the best way of going about doing it."

"I agree with him," Inquisitor Voke said, "They will not be expecting us to attempt what we're about to. I think his plan is going to work, and if it does, it could end this war before it even starts. Corporal Frost, I'm placing you in command of the operation. After you're done with your business at Planetary Security, I want you to go to the President's Palace and begin making all of the necessary preparations. Whatever you need to accomplish your mission, just call and it will be provided."

He continued, "From this moment forward, I will run a campaign of misinformation to make it appear that the President is still in control and running things from his palace. Inquisitor Shrock, you will continue your current operations and immediately begin preparing those forces still loyal to us for war."

Shrock looked like he was about to voice another objection when Inquisitor Voke cut him off, "Damon, I have taken into account all of your many objections and have decided to proceed anyway. Now you have placed your trust in my ability to run this operation effectively and I expect you to live up to your word and continue to perform your duties to the very best of your ability. What we do in the next twenty-four hours will more than likely determine the fate of this entire planet, so it is vitally important that we all continue to work together if we hope to be successful. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes Inquisitor." Shrock and I both said simultaneously.

"Very well then; I wish you both good luck and may the Emperor protect you." With that Inquisitor Voke cut the feed and the screen folded itself back up into the roof.

 **Chapter 18**

The rest of the ride to Planetary Security was uncomfortably silent. At one point I started to say something, but Shrock responded by shooting me a look that told me in no uncertain terms that he didn't want to hear another word out of me. He was highly pissed off and I truly did feel sorry for anyone whose name happened to be on that data-slate he was now carefully reviewing.

The cruiser slowed and came to a stop and the driver lowered the divider, "We're here Inquisitor, they're checking in at the security gate right now."

We sat there for another couple of minutes before Shrock's anger finally got the better of him. He opened his door and stood up so he could see the security officer doing his checks at the front of the motorcade.

"If you don't open that fragging gate in the next three seconds," He yelled, "I'm going to get the hell out of this car, walk up there, and shoot you in your god-damned face! Do you understand me?!"

"Yes Sir! Sorry Sir! Opening it right now, Sir!" I heard a very frightened man holler back. Inquisitor Shrock then got back into the car and slammed his door shut. Almost immediately we were moving again. I used this time to put my mask back on.

We rolled for another couple of minutes and finally came to a stop. I knew we'd arrived when the driver got out of his seat and opened Inquisitor Shrock's door for him. I did the same for myself and we both got out together. Upon exiting the vehicle I found myself standing in front of a very impressive looking building that stretched farther into the sky than I could even see. We were joined by about twenty other operatives and about twice as many local police officers.

Shrock pointed to one of the policemen, "I want a perimeter around this facility. If anyone tries to exit this building before I do, you will place them under arrest and hold them here until I get back. Do you understand me?"

"Sir, yes Sir!" The man then turned around and started hollering instructions to the rest of the police officers.

Shrock then looked to us, "Follow me." With that he turned and walked for the main entrance of the building. As he approached, the doors slid open and we followed him through the threshold.

Upon entering, I found myself in a very large and impressive lobby which I thought to be very neat and friendly looking; far removed from the intimidating aura of that of the Inquisition's. Shrock led us through, moving with purpose until we came to a security checkpoint.

The men guarding it looked briefly like they were actually going to try and stop us, but quickly got out of the way as the operatives nearest Shrock pulled their bolters and stuck them into their faces. Shrock then lead us unhindered through the checkpoint and only stopped when he came upon one of his Interrogators waiting for us by the elevators. "Are they all there?" He asked.

"Yes Inquisitor. Everyone you summoned is currently awaiting your arrival in the building's conference room; with the exception of those who joined forces with Minister Hult of course." The Interrogator politely responded.

"Lead the way," Shrock ordered.

The Interrogator turned around and inserted a key into the wall to activate the elevators' override function. It took a couple of moments, but eventually three cars arrived to carry us up to our destination. The doors opened and our entire entourage stepped inside to ride to whatever floor it was that we were headed to. I stood in the same car as Inquisitor Shrock, the Interrogator, and three other operatives and watched as he hit the button that would take us all to the eighty second floor.

We rode in complete silence for the couple of moments it took the incredibly fast elevator to bring us to the correct floor. The doors slid open and we all stepped out, along with the other operatives who'd ridden up on the other two elevators. We then formed ourselves into two lines of ten with Inquisitor Shrock and the Interrogator at the front of our formation and then followed them through the halls of the building.

As we walked, Inquisitor Shrock pulled out his bolter and chambered a round, which told me in no uncertain terms that this was not going to be pretty. We finally arrived at a set of double doors that were guarded by an additional two operatives who were both armed with assault bolters. The men issued Shrock a crisp salute as we approached, unlocked the doors, and pulled them open for us.

Inside was a very long conference table surrounded by at least forty chairs all filled with incredibly nervous looking members of the Planetary Armed Forces. There were a couple of civilians among the group, but for the most part, the chairs were occupied by extremely high-ranking officers of the various branches of the planet's military.

Shrock and his Interrogator stayed put while the rest of us took up positions around the edges of the room so that we stood in a way that placed each of us about two or three meters behind the group of now very frightened men. Once we'd all gotten into position, Shrock looked to the Interrogator, "I assume the placards are accurate to each person's identity."

"Yes Inquisitor, each person is exactly who the placard identifies them as being as per your instructions," he replied.

All of the sudden Shrock seemed happy and very suddenly, in an extremely loud voice that made everyone in the room jump, looked down the table, "Very good, this will all go along much more quickly." He then addressed the group of men seated around the table, "Anyone who moves from their seat before I'm finished will be shot without question."

He took off his overcoat, handed it to the Interrogator, and very purposefully walked up to the end of the table and in one swift motion, jumped onto the top of it. He stood there for a moment and looked down the length of the table. The men seated around it were now shaking so badly it seemed as if many of them would pass out.

He carefully looked at the names sitting in front of each of them and pulled his sidearm from its holster. Without so much as a single word he aimed his bolter down at the head of a particularly nervous looking general, pulled the trigger, and blew his brains out all over the carpet.

The man seated next to him started screaming and involuntarily jumped out of his seat. Shrock reacted instantly by blowing his head off too. He then reached down and picked up the dead man's placard, before once again addressing the room, "The first man I shot was a traitor, the second was not." He threw the dead general's placard across the room, "I shot him because he was too stupid to follow some very simple instructions and therefor had no place leading men into battle."

Shrock then proceeded to walk very slowly and purposefully along the length of the table; his boots clicking loudly against its wooden surface. Every so often he would stop in front of another seated man, double-check his name placard, point his gun down, and then shoot him in the head. Every time he did this, a thunderous pop would issue out from his bolter that would invariably cause the men seated closest to squeeze their eyes shut tightly as another unfortunate man had the contents of his skull evacuated.

It took about two minutes for Shrock to reach the end of the table; in that time, he'd killed ten men. He was now at the far end of the massive conference table, standing over the man seated at its head. He looked down at him without a hint of mercy, leveled the gun, and pulled the trigger.

The man shut his eyes tightly and involuntarily flinched as the bolter issued out a very loud click instead of the expected death-dealing boom of another round being discharged. He slowly opened his eyes, noticing at the very same moment as Shrock, that the bolter's clip was now empty.

The man let out a very long and audible sigh of relief as Shrock looked at him and smiled. The smile on Shrock's face caused the man to relax a little and start laughing nervously as he did the same. They both laughed heartily for a good couple of moments until Shrock stopped and just stared at the man coldly.

Seeing this, the man also stopped laughing and his eyes grew very wide as Shrock flipped the bolter over in his hand so that he was now holding it by the barrel. He then very quickly reached down and smashed it into the man's head. I heard bones within the general's face break as Shrock grabbed him by the collar and repeatedly bashed him with the bolter, over and over again. I guess all those threats of pistol-whippings weren't as empty as I'd always thought them to be.

His face was a mangled wreck when Shrock finally holstered his now very bloody sidearm, grabbed him with both hands, and dragged him onto the table. Once he was completely on top of the table, Shrock flipped him around and threw him hard so he landed on the flat of his back. Shrock then sat down on top of the man and pinned him to the table in such a manner that left him completely unable to defend himself.

"This is what I do to traitors!" Shrock then viciously beat into the man's broken face with both fists; his gold rings knocked numerous teeth from his mouth, further destroying the traitorous general's facial structure as he did.

Shrock was an animal; he pounded the man so long his pony-tail came undone. His hair hung freely and sweat formed on his forehead as he relentlessly continued his savage assault upon the defenseless general.

The air became thick with the smell of iron from the massive amount of blood the general was losing. There was so much of it that he started to gurgle sickly as his mouth and throat filled up with the sticky substance. Shrock beat and beat and beat the man; and just when I thought he was done, beat him some more. He beat him so long that the crack of his fists against bone gave way to sopping wet thuds; telling me that at this point every single bone within the traitor's face had been pulverized.

After a couple of very long minutes of the man stubbornly clinging to life, Shrock became frustrated, leaned forward, wrapped both of his blood-drenched hands around his throat, and started to strangle him. The blood pouring from his victim's head pooled into an ever growing puddle and started to drip from the edges of the table into the laps of the men sitting closest this very grizzly scene. Not one of them dared move. They could only look on in complete and utter shock at the unbelievable level of brutality this rabid Inquisitor was capable of.

Shrock now completely covered in the man's blood; continued to strangle him for a long time after he'd finally quit moving to make sure that he was truly dead. Once satisfied his work was complete, he released his hold on the man's neck and sat up.

He looked around for a long moment as if he were searching for something. He finally found what it was that he was looking for, "You Sir," he said in a now perfectly calm voice, "Would you be so kind, as to pass me my hair tie?" Shrock pointed to a small black band lying on the floor. The general looked to where he was pointing and very carefully picked up the hair tie and passed it to him. Shrock then held out his other hand and an operative quickly ran up and handed him a comb. Still seated atop the man's dead body, he proceeded to comb his long black hair for couple of very tense minutes until he was satisfied that it was straight. He then took the band and expertly tied his hair back behind his head into his trademarked pony-tail.

Shrock then stood up and walked back to the end of the table where the general he'd just brutally murdered had been sitting. He hopped down and casually took a seat in the dead man's chair, "Someone get rid of that piece of shit; I'm tired of looking at it."

Two operatives moved up and roughly pulled the ruined body from the table then unceremoniously threw it into a corner just like they would any other piece of garbage.

After they'd completed their macabre task, Shrock leaned forward and placed his blood-covered hands on the table, "As for the rest of you, I've found nothing that even slightly indicates that any of you are traitors." He paused for a couple of moments to watch them visibly relax before saying,

"Yet."

I smiled as that singular word completely brought back to the forefront of their minds the absolute carnage he'd just wrought amongst them.

He continued, "So it is my suggestion, that if any of you are currently having thoughts of betraying the Imperium you've sworn to protect; that you go ahead and think about what it is that's happened here." He looked at the men long and hard in a way that let them know that he would not hesitate to do the same to any one of them.

Shrock then took a bloody finger and pointed it at the men seated around the table, "Which one among you, who is still alive, is now the most capable officer in this room?" Everyone looked around the table at each other, all unwilling to put themselves out there in front of this raging lunatic.

Finally, one of them spoke up, "Inquisitor," the man was dressed in an Air Force general's uniform that was now speckled with drops of blood from one of the men Shrock had shot that had been sitting next to him, "You have killed every man in this room who could have even remotely claimed to be that person."

Shrock looked at the man evilly, "Well I didn't ask you that; did I? I asked, which among you who is _still alive_ is the most capable officer, didn't I? Sir, you are very lucky my bolter is currently out of ammunition; because if it weren't, I would have pulled it out and shot you by now for your own stupidity." The man shrank back into his chair.

"So I'm going to ask one more time, and if I don't get a response from someone in this room claiming that he is in fact the man I'm looking for; I will pick out which amongst you whom I feel is that person and then shoot you for being a coward." He paused then to give them some time to think about what he'd just said, "So let's try this again; who among you, is now the most capable officer in this room?"

It was uncomfortably silent for a very tense couple of moments before one of the lowest ranking officers in the room spoke up, "I am Inquisitor. I'm the most capable officer in this room."

Shrock looked at him long and hard before speaking, "Very good, Colonel, Colonel…. I'm sorry I can't read your name tag from here."

"Lieutenant Colonel David Prentiss, Inquisitor." The man said answering his question.

"Very well Lieutenant Colonel Prentiss, I am hereby promoting you to the rank of general and placing you in command of all those planetary forces that are still loyal to the Emperor. Congratulations General, every man in this room works for you now."

The looks of shock and outrage over what Shrock had just done were now clearly written all over the faces of everyone seated at the table. One of the Generals couldn't take what had just happened and stood up, "This is outrageous!" He screamed, "Just who the hell do you think you are?! Promoting that peon to be in charge of the rest of us?!"

While the man continued his tirade he failed to notice Shrock nod to one of his operatives who then pulled his bolter and quietly walked up from behind. "Coming in here and shooting people like you're the judge, the jury, and the god-damned executioner! I have half a mind to…"

The operative silently placed the bolter to the back of the man's head and pulled trigger. The subsequent explosion emptied the entire contents of the dumb general's brain-case out through a very large hole in the front of his face. He fell face first onto the table with the front half of his skull missing. The operative holstered his sidearm and returned to his place by the wall as if nothing had even happened.

"For those of you who don't know," Shrock looked at them coldly, "my name is Inquisitor Damon Shrock. And I would like you all to get it through your thick skulls right now; that _I am,_ the judge, the jury, and the god-damned executioner around here."

"General Prentiss is in charge and I will absolutely not tolerate any form of insubordination. From here on out, all of you will follow your new commanding officer's orders, immediately and without question, or I will similarly and without hesitation have you shot as well."

"Now, if by chance I haven't made myself perfectly clear, I dare any one of you to stand up right now and try my patience." Shrock had obviously gotten his point across, because not one other man in the room even looked like he remotely doubted the sincerity of his words.

The room was completely silent for a couple of minutes as Shrock waited for any hint of further disobedience. When he was satisfied that there would be no further outbursts, he looked to the newly promoted General Prentiss, "General, I hereby order you to prepare for the imminent invasion of the Eastern Provinces. You will bring to bear every ounce of the considerable forces that are now at your disposal to accomplish this mission." He then looked at him in a way that clearly frightened every man in the room, "And even the Emperor won't be able to help you if I find that you are incapable of completing this task as I have assigned it to you. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes Inquisitor!" The man yelled in true military fashion.

"Very good, you're in charge now and from here on out I'm sure that all of these men will perform any and all of your subsequent orders without question." He then looked to the rest of the men in the room, "Am I correct in that assumption?"

"Sir, yes Sir!" They all yelled at once.

Satisfied, Shrock stood up, stepped away from the table, and held out his arms. This prompted the Interrogator to run up and assist him by putting his long black overcoat on over his now very bloody fatigues. Without saying a single word Shrock then headed for the door. We all followed and filed out of the room behind him, leaving an incredibly bewildered group of generals in our wake.

 **Chapter 19**

After we left Planetary Security, Inquisitor Shrock and I parted put me in a car bound for the Presidential Palace, while he and the rest of the men proceeded to the Planetary Parliament. They were going to take care of what he said, was going to be even more fun than what he'd just done at Planetary Security. Shrock truly was a sadistic bastard and I could only guess how many of the planet's five- hundred plus provincial representatives were about to end up on the wrong end of his bolter.

I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes. I knew this would be the last chance I'd have to grab a well-deserved nap for the foreseeable future. I'd just started to nod off; when the driver lowered the divider and informed me I had an incoming transmission from the _Emperor's Wrath._

"Put it through," I said in a very annoyed voice. The vid-screen unfolded and much to my pleasant surprise; in the place of Inquisitor Voke who I'd expected it to be, was the smiling face of my commanding officer, Captain Drennan.

"Well, well, Trooper; aren't we moving up in the world?" He was in a hospital bed in the infirmary aboard Inquisitor Voke's ship. He didn't have a shirt on, but his well-muscled torso was almost completely covered in bandages; with his right arm held in place by a sling across his chest. "Since when do I have to ask some asshole's permission to speak to one of my own god-damned troopers?"

"I guess since about thirty seconds ago Sir."

He laughed weakly; despite the obvious pain it caused him. "Trooper, Inquisitor Voke informed me of the incredibly dangerous assignment you volunteered for." He looked at me for a long moment before continuing, "And he also informed me that he placed you in command of that mission."

"Yes Sir," I replied, but with Captain Drennan now right in front of me, I suddenly became unsure of myself. Was I actually capable of commanding such an important operation? I'd never commanded anything in my whole life, and now here I was in charge of what would probably be the most important mission of the entire war.

"Are you sure you're up to it?" Captain Drennan asked, putting voice to the doubts that were now exponentially growing within me.

"Sir, to be honest with you, I don't know." I replied very truthfully.

He looked at me in a way that told me I had clearly answered the question incorrectly, "Well you better get sure real fraggin' quickly!"

"If you go in their doubting your own capabilities, your subordinates will too. They'll see it immediately and won't respect you one single bit. And if they don't respect you, they will absolutely not respond to your orders. Your mission will be a total failure before it ever fragging starts! Do you read me?!"

"Sir, I've never commanded anything in my entire life. I'm not even sure where to start." I was now completely unsure of myself.

"What the hell do you mean you're not sure where to fragging start?" He screamed, "How many ambushes have you been on in your fifteen years as a Storm Trooper? Because that's all this mission is; albeit a very difficult ambush against a more highly trained enemy than either of us has ever faced; but it's still just a fragging ambush, the same rules still apply Corporal." As he said this I realized the truth behind his words, but I still couldn't shake the incredible sense of uncertainty I was feeling.

"How do you do it Sir?" I asked, "How do you go into a room and order men into battle; knowing damn well most of them are going to be killed following your orders, and do it all without so much as even blinking?"

"Because that's my god-damned job as an officer Corporal; and if I don't do it; who the hell will? Besides, every man in that room knows exactly what they signed up for and the risks they may be asked to take in their service to the Imperium. And as their leader I owe it to them more than anything else, to project an aura of unshakable confidence. No matter how it is I really feel, it is my responsibility to give them the unmistakable impression that I am absolutely sure that we will be totally successful in whatever it is I'm ordering them to do."

"Now if by chance, I were to go into that room and act like a scared little school-girl while handing out my orders; they will pick up on that fear and become unsure of the mission themselves. Not only that, they will actually come to resent me for being a coward who's ordering them into a situation, which instead of just probably, is now definitely going to get them killed. And it's all because of my own damned attitude." He paused to give me time to process everything he'd just said.

"So as an officer, it is now your duty to go in there with nothing less than an attitude that displays how supremely confident you are that they will be thoroughly successful in whatever it is that you are about to ask them to do. And you owe it to them to do this no matter how it is you truly feel. Do you understand me?"

I was now totally confused and had to ask, "What do you mean, as an officer?"

He smiled, "Well, we very well can't have some dumbass Corporal in charge of the most important mission of the entire war; can we? I've written an order that hereby promotes you to the rank of second lieutenant, and that order was approved by Inquisitor Voke. Effective immediately, you are now _Lieutenant_ Mabien Frost. Congratulations trooper, you're an officer; I expect you to act accordingly."

Me?! An officer?! Just what the hell was he thinking?! I'm just some dumbass leatherneck. What kind of fragging drugs had that doctor up there given him anyways?! He was obviously not in his right mind…

Captain Drennan suddenly broke this train of thought. "Quit looking at me like I'm some kind of fragging idiot, Lieutenant! You're a god-damned officer now, so start acting like one! You _are_ going to lead those men into battle and you _will_ be successful, or so help me I'll bring my crippled ass down there and shoot you myself! Do you fragging read me?!"

"Sir, yes Sir!" I yelled.

"Very good then. Now you get your god-damned act together and you go to that palace and you show those men that you're the one in charge and you know exactly what the frag it is you're doing there. Have I made myself clear?"

"Sir, yes Sir!" I yelled into the screen again. He was right; I did know what I was doing. I'd been a part of more ambushes and killed more men doing so, than any ten troopers combined. I should have a god-damned doctorate in ambush tactics and procedures by now. I could do this. I will do this. And those Chaos sons-of- bitches better start praying to whatever demon it is they pray to, because I had every intention of sending every last one of em' to meet that Emperor forsaken abomination real fraggin' shortly.

"I can tell by the look on your face you're ready to do your job now, Lieutenant." Captain Drennan stated, now seeing the look of determination I was clearly displaying.

"Yes Sir!" I said, "And thank you Sir; for everything."

"Don't thank me, thank your recruiter," the phrase, which was a long standing joke used whenever a new trooper was caught griping about his current situation; caused us both to burst into laughter.

"I'll be sure to send him a very strongly worded letter when this is all said and done with." That caused us both to laugh all the harder. Captain Drennan laughed so hard that he coughed up blood; which in turn, prompted a doctor to walk in front of his pic-source and say something I couldn't hear."

"Well Lieutenant it's time for me to go, Doctor's orders and such. You be careful down there… that's an order."

"Yes Sir!" He leaned forward and cut the feed, causing my vid-screen to fold itself back up into the roof of the passenger compartment. The driver then lowered the divider that separated us and passed me back something he'd wrapped in a small piece of cloth.

I unfolded it to find a pair of golden bars used to identify the rank of a second lieutenant, "It wasn't hard finding these," the driver said, "I just stuck my bolter into the face of the first lieutenant I ran into at Planetary Security and politely asked him for the rank off his collar." I chuckled at the operative's level of ingenuity.

"Thank you, Sir." I said to the man as I proceeded to unpin my old rank from my collar.

"Don't call me Sir, I work for a living… _Sir_." I laughed as he said that age-old enlisted man's joke that I could no longer tell. He smiled at me through the rearview mirror, "I used to be an enlisted man in the Imperial Guard, before I got this job working for the Inquisition that is."

The Imperial Guard is by far the largest part of the Imperial Military. They usually make up the bulk of whatever boots the Imperium puts on the ground and it would be absolutely impossible to effectively occupy a planet without the truly massive amount of manpower only the Guard is capable of bringing to the fight. They are all truly good soldiers, but they're nowhere near as effective as the average Storm Trooper is.

This is because the Imperial Naval Storm Troopers are considered to be Special Forces, and we're usually only called in for special assignments, or when for one reason or another, the Guard finds that they are incapable of getting the job done. We're also frequently used as shock troopers, to hit the enemy incredibly hard and fast; normally with the sole intention of giving those men of the Guard that little extra push they need to win the war.

This has caused a lot of my comrades to look down on the Imperial

Guardsmen, but I never have; I know that a vast majority of the wars fought by the Imperium are largely determined by the very hard work the brave men of the Imperial Guard selflessly perform on a daily basis.

"Well thank you very much. Can you tell me how long we have left until we get to the Presidential Palace?"

"You've got about an hour an forty-five minutes to grab some sleep Sir." He said reading my mind perfectly, "I'll wake you up when we get there; you just sit back and enjoy the ride." I pinned the rank he'd so thoughtfully confiscated onto my collar then leaned back for some much deserved rest.

I fell asleep almost instantly and had a very vivid dream recalling the day my best friend and mentor, Gunnery Sergeant Maximus Christoff died. He'd just released his hold on the grenades when the driver shook me awake.

"Lieutenant Frost, wake up, we're here." I was covered in sweat, "Boy that was some nightmare you were having. I was half afraid to even wake you for fear you'd pull your bolter out and shoot me. What the hell were you dreaming about anyway?"

I looked at him for a long moment, still trying to remind myself that it had now been almost a year ago. It took a couple of minutes, but I finally got my wits about me and brought myself back to the present, "It was nothing, just a very bad day I don't care to remember anymore."

He looked at me for a couple of moments like he was about to ask more, then thought better of it, "Yeah, I have those dreams myself sometimes. Well Lieutenant, we're here. My name is Maximus Hightower by the way, and I've been assigned to be your driver and personal aide from here on out."

I looked at him harshly, "Excuse me, what the hell did you just say?"

He took a step back and regarded me in a very confused manner, "I said, that I've been assigned to be your driver and aide from here on out. Do you have some kind of problem with that?" He was now eyeing me very suspiciously.

"I'm sorry Mr. Hightower, your name; it kind of threw me for a second. I had a very good friend with the same name as you a long time ago." I replied, recovering my wits for the second time in our very short conversation.

"Well that doesn't surprise me in the least; Hightower is a very common surname on my home-world." He said casually, now satisfied that I wasn't crazy. I didn't even take the time to tell him it wasn't his last name that threw me.

I slid out of my seat and stood up as he the closed the door for me, "Yeah I suppose that's it, he must have been from your home-world too."

"Well what was his first name, maybe we're related?" He pressed as we walked along the sidewalk bordering the massive front lawn of the even more massive Presidential Palace.

"You know, I never did find that out." I lied, as we both stopped to take in the awe-inspiring site of the truly gargantuan house that the executive branch of the Ophidian government used to conduct its operations.

I quickly snapped out of my reverie and began analyzing the facility from a tactical standpoint. I looked all around the building's exterior; I could see that there were already men manning sniper's nests on the roof and numerous others actively patrolling the grounds. I also noticed that there were very few trees, or anything else that could be used as cover on this side of the palace. This was good because the lack of concealing landscape would make any kind of clandestine approach very difficult.

We continued our walk towards the main entrance when a couple of very large men brandishing laze-rifles, wearing the green and black uniforms of the Presidential Guard, approached us.

"Lieutenant Frost I presume." One of the very serious men said.

"Yeah, that's me and this is my assistant, Mr. Hightower." The man gave us the once over, and from the look on his face, wasn't impressed.

"Right this way Lieutenant." He motioned for us to follow, "As you can see; we have everything well under control around here," As he said this he unnecessarily pointed out all of the different security features I'd already noticed.

He continued, "So I find it highly insulting that they've sent you in to tell us how we should go about securing our own facility. We all take pride in the fact that no one in the history of Ophidia has ever gained unauthorized access to this building. All of our security here is state of the art, and every man guarding this place is a seasoned combat veteran." I had to try very hard not to laugh at how very little this man actually knew about the people that would soon be coming to pay their precious little building a visit. He and his colleagues obviously took a lot of pride in their work and I felt that pride would be something I could use.

We entered the main entrance of the building which was also very heavily guarded by no less than eight additional men, all also brandishing laze-rifles. One of them snorted derisively as I passed through his checkpoint; he was obviously just as upset as the man escorting us that I'd be taking over.

This wasn't going to work. If they weren't going to give me their respect I guess I was going to have to take it. I turned to face the one who'd disrespected me, "I'm sorry, did you have something you wanted to say?"

"No Sir, I'd never _dream_ of saying anything to an officer of the Inquisition." The tone in his voice made it blatantly clear that he did, in fact, have a whole hell of a lot to say to me.

I made up my mind right then that if I wanted any kind of chance at gaining their respect, I would have to make one hell of an example out of some of them, "Well if that's all that's holding you back," I removed the badge from around my neck, handed it to Hightower, and then proceeded to unbutton my fatigue top, "I'm no longer an officer of the Inquisition," After I'd undone the last button, I removed the top half of my uniform and also passed it to Hightower, "And anything that you'd now wish to say to me; I'd kindly ask that you act like you actually have a pair of balls and say it to my face."

With just my black undershirt on, everyone could now see my truly massive arms, and the shape of my well-muscled, upper body; this, coupled with the cold-blooded look on my face caused the man to hesitate. My immediate challenge to the man's disrespect; made it clear to every person in the room, that not only was I not intimidated in the very least, but I was also more than capable of backing that attitude up.

Without ever breaking eye contact with the man I unbuckled my LBE belt and unstrapped the holsters from each of my legs. Once finished, I pulled my sword from its holster, and handed the rest of my equipment to Hightower.

I looked back to the men, "I can see by the look on your faces that your swagger only goes as far as those you can easily intimidate, or currently outnumber. Seeing as how it's blatantly obvious that not one of you intimidates me in the very least, I'll make you a deal." I ignited my power-sword, causing all of them to jump back a few steps as the black flame erupted from its hilt.

As they stared, totally transfixed by the pure unbridled power the weapon was capable of producing; I continued, "I'm told this sword is worth more than an Imperial Cruiser," with lightning speed I stepped forward, slashed down, and cut one of the guard's rifles in half as he held it in his hands. The suddenness of my move caught him completely off guard and he stood there staring stupidly for a couple of seconds. When he finally realized what I'd done, he jumped back and dropped the two halves of the bifurcated rifle to the ground.

I deactivated the sword while the rest of the men took aim at me with their laze-rifles, "You men can put those down; I'm not going to use this sword to hurt any of you." I watched as they reluctantly lowered their weapons before continuing, "I am however, going to make you an offer," I slowly swept my finger around the room and pointed to each of the men, "If any three of you, can beat me my ass, right here, right now; I will give you this sword and you'll be rich men for the rest of your lives."

They all looked around at each other, now completely unsure of themselves. I decided that I would have to push some buttons if I truly wanted to goad these men into a fight, "Are all members of the Presidential Guard as cowardly as you men seem to be? I mean, this should be a fairly easy task for you to accomplish; three against one, how could you possibly lose? And with Mr. Hightower as my witness, I swear to you men; if you beat me, not only will I give you this sword; there will also be no repercussions for any of you."

I paused to let them contemplate my offer before pressing on, "Or you can all just admit that you're scared of me right now and I'll be on my way."

Their pride took over then as I knew it would; these men were soldiers. I had now twice called them cowards, and no self-respecting soldier in the Imperium would ever consider letting such an insult go unpunished. Every single man in the room was now ready to beat the hell out of me, "Okay then," I held up three fingers, "any three of you who thinks you've got what it takes to take me down can go ahead and disarm yourselves."

While they were all busy figuring out who were the best three fighters among them, I walked over to Hightower and handed him my sword, "Sir, excuse me if I'm speaking out of turn," he started in a low voice, "But these guys are definitely not slouches; they are the best of the best Planetary Security has to offer. These guards are quite possibly the toughest men on this planet; do you really think you can beat three of them at once?"

I looked at him and smiled, "Mr. Hightower, I'm the toughest man on this planet, and after I'm done with them, every single person in this room is going to know it." Hightower shook his head in disbelief as I turned around to see that three of them were now patiently waiting to kick my ass and become very rich men in the process.

I stepped forward as the rest of the guards formed a circle around us. I looked up to the balcony surrounding the large decorative lobby of the palace to see a couple dozen others had also stopped what they were doing so they could watch their buddies beat the hell out of me.

I took a deep breath to slow my heart and settle my nerves. I then craned my neck from side to side feeling the bones crack within. Pre-combat ritual complete, I took a step forward.

The first man didn't hesitate; he rushed towards me and unleashed what I'm sure everyone in the room thought was a very well-performed combination of attacks. I leaned back and bobbed from side to side, easily dodging every single one of them. He finished his combination with a nasty right hook which I expertly ducked and countered by grabbing him around the side. I then forced his body into my right knee which I was already raising with brutal force to slam hard into his mid-section.

The perfectly placed counter; drove deep into the man's abdomen, doubled him over, and hit him with so much power it pushed every bit of air from his lungs. His legs buckled and I threw him clear, using the momentum of the maneuver to force my body into a ducking spin just in time to pass under a very strong straight-right thrown by my secondary target.

I went low, extended my right leg and turned my spin into a reversed sweep aimed at the back of his legs. The expertly-performed maneuver connected with such force that it tore both his feet out from underneath of him. The man flipped over backwards and before he even hit the ground I'd planted both of my feet, changed direction, and came up with a very stout overhand left.

I threw the punch with nothing but the worst of intentions and it landed dead center into the third man's face just as he'd gotten himself into position to throw one of his own. My bionic hand smashed into him with so much energy, that not only did it break his nose; it also knocked every single tooth from the front side of his mouth, causing an inordinate amount of blood to gush from his face as it did. He fell to the ground completely unconscious just as the man I'd swept was getting to his feet.

While he was getting set to try again I did the unexpected and turned my back to him. I quickly walked to the first man I'd dropped who was just now getting up to his hands and knees. He was still gasping for air, trying desperately to get his severely injured diaphragm to stop quivering and get back to its extremely important job of pulling air into his lungs.

I stepped up and very rudely interrupted this process by kicking him in the face. Blood and teeth went flying as the un-giving steel toe of my boot, effortlessly broke the not so un-giving bone within the man's jaw. The kick shattered the man's jaw, knocked him cold, and sent him sliding quite a ways across the floor.

I heard the quick approach of the one I'd turned my back to coming up from behind. In response, I turned myself ninety degrees to the left and leaned back just in time to cause the very strong punch he'd thrown to whiz by my face. I patiently waited until the momentum of his attack carried him completely past and then quickly turned so that I was now behind him. With lightning speed, I leaned forward with my left hand and snatched him by the hair of his head. Using all of my strength, I jerked back, reversed the momentum of his upper body, and violently ripped him from his feet. I then pushed all the force I could possibly muster into my bionic arm and slammed the now airborne man head-first into the ground.

Half-conscious, he instinctively reached up with both arms to desperately try and defend himself. I snatched ahold of his right with both hands, extended it, and then wrapped my legs around it. I then took his trapped arm, fell over backwards, and pulled it into an arm-bar. I torqued hard on his doomed arm and hyperextended it well past its breaking point.

A couple of very loud and sickly cracks issued out; indicating beyond any doubt, that I had in fact, snapped both bones in his forearm. The man screamed horribly as I maintained my vice-like grip on his now triple-jointed arm and stood back up. I then placed by boot on the man's neck to hold him in place while I extended the severely broken appendage to its full length. I held it there and looked around the room at the shocked group of men who'd originally shown up to watch what they'd all thought was going to be a demonstration of my own foolishness.

To drive home the point I'd originally set out to make; I placed my hands above and below the break in the man's arm and folded it over backwards completely in half; causing both bones in his forearm to burst through his skin along with a substantial amount of gushing blood. The man issued a bloodcurdling scream of pain that caused everyone in the room to gasp in complete and utter shock. I dropped the man's now utterly deformed arm and looked down at him coldly as he continued to scream. After I was sure I had thoroughly gotten my point across; I showed the man a small measure of pity and mercifully knocked him unconscious to relieve him of his pain.

The entire fight had lasted less than twenty seconds. In that time, I'd broken two of the men's faces, the third one's arm, and left all three of them unconscious; all without so much as getting hit a single time. I looked up to the now very intimidated group of men and yelled, "The people I have come here to help you defend this palace against; are all _far_ superior to myself in hand-to-hand combat."

I paused to give that very unsettling statement some time to sink in. "I have come here to offer you people my assistance; so that hopefully after they do attack, some of you will still be alive, and even more importantly, still have a palace left to defend." I paused for another moment before continuing, "Now if I've defeated three of the best you have to offer, _this fraggin' easily_ , what the hell kind of chance do any of you think you have without me?" The room was uncomfortably silent as I awaited their response.

When I was satisfied that I'd left them all truly speechless, I looked up and used my best impression of Captain Drennan's command voice, "My name is Lieutenant Mabien Frost, and I've been sent here to give you men the opportunity to celebrate your next birthday." I paused for effect, "Now I expect you soldiers to get your god-damned heads out of your asses, and start acting like the professionals I know you're all capable of being." I looked around the room for another second before asking, "Have I made myself perfectly clear?!"

Apparently I had, because without a moment's hesitation they all yelled as one, "Sir, yes Sir!"

"Very good; now get your asses back to work and I'll see what I can do about you men through the rest of this week alive." I looked over to the guards beside me, "Get those fraggin' men to a hospital."

 **Chapter 20**

"From here on out, absolutely no member of the Presidential Security detail is allowed to leave this compound for _any reason_ until our work here is done." I said to Colonel Tacker from behind the desk of what used to be his office.

Colonel Tacker was the current head of Presidential Security, but after my little demonstration; he more than willingly turned complete command of the detail over to me and also insisted that I take his office as well. I almost said I couldn't accept such an offer, but from the look on his face I could tell such a refusal would have probably been taken as a personal insult.

He looked at me in a confused manner for a moment before responding, "Sir, if you're worried about my men being able to keep their mouths shut; I can assure you that they are all professionals of the highest caliber."

"I understand that Colonel, but what about their wives? What's happening right now; is absolutely the biggest thing to ever happen in the entire history of this planet. And I can absolutely guarantee you, that as we speak, there are reporters camped out in front of the homes of every single one of your men. If just one of them slips up and says something to their lonely housewife; that woman could then - in some misguided attempt to grab her fifteen minutes of fame - say something to one of those reporters that would ruin our entire operation."

"I'd then be left with no other choice, than to kill her, and her husband for their own stupidity. So let's just say we play it on the safe side and keep them all here until this is all said and done with." He looked at me and nodded in a way that told me he agreed with my logic. "For this same reason, I want you to go ahead and confiscate all of their personal voxes as well." He interjected then.

"That won't be a problem Sir, every member of our security team is required to check their voxes upon arrival to this facility."

"Very good, I would like you to double-check anyway. And I would also like you to inform the men, that if I catch anyone of them with a vox of any kind, other than those necessary to secure this facility, that I will shoot them on the spot for suspicion of treason." He looked at me for a very long moment before reaching into his pocket and producing his own personal vox. The Colonel, now extremely embarrassed over his own lack of discipline, looked down, and slid it across the desk.

"I will check all the men personally Sir." He said, still unable to look me in the eye. I thought about tearing him a new one, but refrained as I saw how truly ashamed he was over his obvious failure to comply with one of his very own regulations.

"Very good," I said in a way that let him know the matter was settled. "I also want every man in this building to immediately take his laze -rifle and throw that worthless piece of shit into the first trash receptacle he can find. I've ordered brand new assault bolters for all of them; they should be arriving within the hour."

The look on his face was that of complete shock, "Why the hell would you replace perfectly good laze-rifles with antiquated bolters?"

"Because against Space Marines; they're as good as useless." I said offering no further explanation.

He looked at me incredulously, "What the hell do you mean they're as good as useless? Those laze-rifles are the very latest in technology. I can't see any value in replacing them with relics of the past."

I lost my temper, "Colonel have you ever actually fought a Space Marine?!" Clearly he hadn't because he remained silent, "I didn't fragging think so." I said harshly, "I, on the other hand, have. So when I tell you that your stupid fragging laze-rifles won't so much as put a scratch on their armor; you had god-damned better believe that I know what the hell it is I'm talking about. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes Sir," He reluctantly responded, still not fully believing the truth behind my words.

"Colonel, what does it take to stop a tank?" I asked rhetorically, "It takes a heavy caliber armor-penetrating round; doesn't it?"

"Yes, I can agree with that, but I still don't follow you." He looked at me in a way that told me he was now completely unsure of what I was getting at.

I spun my computer screen around and played for him the clip I'd pulled from my own combat- log. It showed Gunney uselessly dumping round after round of laze-fire right into the marine charging him, "Colonel; I want you get it into your head right now; that a Space Marine, is for all intents and purposes, _a real life walking tank_." His eyes grew wide in disbelief as he watched the short video. When it finished I played it again to drive home the point.

"And you say there's twenty of those things coming here?!" Fear was now clearly written all over his face. I guess I'd gotten through to him a little too well of what the true nature of our enemy really was.

I watched as the look of fear on his face quickly turned into terror, "Colonel, you better get your god-damned act together real fraggin' quickly, because I will shoot you before I let you spread that fear to the rest of the men. Do you understand?" The Colonel, much to his credit, very quickly got ahold of himself.

"I want you to repeat after me." I said to the Colonel, and then went on to recite the words I wanted him to repeat as if I were speaking to a scared little boy, "If I do… Exactly as Lieutenant Frost instructs… I will be absolutely successful in completing my mission." I paused to let him repeat those words before continuing, "And if I do… Exactly as Lieutenant Frost instructs… Many of my men will get to go home to their wives and children." I paused again as Tacker finished repeating my words back to me. As he said the words I could see the confidence return to his face, but I could also see that the way I'd just treated him had also really pissed him off. I didn't care if it had; I'd rather him pissed at me than scared of the Marines any day of the week.

Before I could give any further instructions to Colonel Tacker; Mr. Hightower showed up and let himself into my office.

Mr. Hightower was a powerfully built man of average height, with very broad shoulders that were perfectly complimented by an equally large belly. Now most people with a stomach as large as his, I would have just considered fat. But for some reason, I can truly say, that his large belly in all actuality, only added to the effortless impression that he unintentionally gave, that he was unquestionably, a man of incredible strength. In fact, I would even go so far as to say, that his big belly actually made him appear to be all the more athletic.

He, like me, also wore his salt and pepper colored hair cropped short in true military fashion. The only difference was; that whereas I buzzed my coal black hair down close to my head, he cut his greying hair almost as short, but into that of a perfectly shaped flat-top instead.

He had kind eyes when he knew people were watching him, but if he were unaware that someone was observing him; he would relax his guard and let his eyes show the truth behind them. They were easily recognizable as the hollowed out eyes of a man who had truly seen too much combat. The feint scars all over his face and head, confirmed that suspicion beyond any doubt. He hid these facts about himself very well, but being a shot-out combat veteran myself, there was no hiding the truth from me.

"Sir," Hightower began, "The rifles you've requested have just shown up, along with more armor-piercing rounds than I've ever seen in my entire fragging life." He laughed very heartily as he continued, "The tanks are here too, they're tearing the hell out of the front lawn as we speak." This caused the Colonel to immediately jump up out of his seat.

"What the hell do you mean they're tearing up the front lawn?!" He screamed. The Colonel looked as if he were about to have a heart-attack just asking the question.

Hightower looked at him and without missing a beat, "They're tanks Colonel. That's just what they do. They typically tear the hell out of just about anything they're driving on." I was trying really hard with little success to prevent myself from laughing as the Colonel burst from the office headed full speed to save whatever he could of his precious front lawn.

Hightower then looked back to me, "Why did you call in tanks Sir? You do still want them to attack us right?"

I looked at him and smiled, "Those tanks are just for show Mr. Hightower. I doubt they'll ever even see the marines when they come. But what they will do; is make them come in the way I want them to; right through the front door. And not only that, they'll make it more believable that the President's still here. Think about it; who in their right mind would call in tanks to secure someone who isn't here?"

He smiled as he came to realize the soundness of my reasoning, "Sir, you know if you keep this up, they're gonna try and make a god-damned Inquisitor out of you." We both got a good laugh at that before making our way to the front lawn to see how the Colonel was doing.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing Sergeant?!" Colonel Tacker screamed up to one of the tank commanders who'd parked his tank dead center in the palace's front lawn; which prior to his arrival had been absolutely flawless. Hightower and I both chuckled quietly at the Colonel, who looked as if he'd completely lost his mind; continued to point in a very exaggerated and comical fashion, to the two very long and nasty looking scars the tank's treads had torn through his perfectly manicured grass. The tank's muddy tracks contrasted so starkly against the rest of the lawn, that one could easily discern the exact course the tank had taken to arrive at its present location.

The tank commander standing out of the top hatch of his Lehman Russ, didn't look too concerned over anything the Colonel had to say to him. As the Colonel continued his rant, the tanker very calmly reached into his breast pocket and produced a small white package which he then removed a stick of obscura from. Still blatantly ignoring the Colonel, he casually stuck the narc-tube into his mouth, produced a lighter from one of his pants pockets, and lit it up. He then took a very long and drawn-out pull, looked down to the irate Colonel, and blew the smoke right into his face.

The Colonel, who'd obviously never smoked in his life, instantly started to cough and choke as he involuntarily inhaled some of the smoke the tanker had disrespectfully blown into his face.

"Do you think the Colonel is dumb enough to try and climb up there?"

Hightower asked as we watched the Colonel continue to cough very loudly for a couple of seconds.

Now tankers are truly a breed all of their own. Unlike the rest of the Imperial Military, they care very little for most of the rules and regulations the rest of us live and die by. But there is one thing that tankers do care about, and they care about that one thing more than anything else in the world; their tank. Their lives absolutely depend upon its performance, and because of this; many of them consider their tanks, to be living, breathing, members of their own family. I've personally met tankers who actually cared more about the welfare of their tank, than they did that of their own children.

I can recall a very sobering experience I'd once had involving a Lehman Russ manned by the Imperial Guard. In the heat of battle I'd very foolishly jumped on top of it. My intent was to use it as hard cover and a platform to fire my sniper rifle from. This was during the Battle of Cadia and we were in the middle of a very intense firefight with Chaos-controlled forces. Now despite the numerous rounds zipping past and bouncing off the tanks' armor; the tank commander immediately stopped everything he was doing, opened his hatch, put his bolter to the side of my head, and very forcefully told me to get the hell off his tank. Needless to say, I found a different place to fire my rifle from.

I didn't understand why the tank commander had done what he had, until Gunney Christoff explained it to me. The way he explained it to me was this; tankers believe that their machine has a spirit, a soul if you will. Whenever a new crewman is assigned to a tank; he's given a trial-run to see if the machine-spirit of the tank agrees with him as an operator. If it does, the tank will continue to be reliable and run with utmost efficiency. On the other hand, if the machine's spirit does not like the man; it will subsequently start to develop mechanical problems of all varieties which will not stop until said crewman is replaced.

He went on to explain that sometimes, a tank's spirit will so strongly disagree with a person; that it could actually break down as soon as he touches it. If one fails to remove such a person from the tank and then forces it to operate against its will with that man as part of its crew, its spirit could then become vengeful. This usually comes in the form of some kind of catastrophic failure that kills every one of its crewmembers, or even worse, with it suffering total system failure in the heat of combat with much the same result.

So to prevent any of this from happening, tankers just play it safe, and don't allow anyone, and that means _any one,_ who is not already a crewmember, to so much as touch their tank. Even if you look like you're just thinking about touching their tank, they will respond with force and will absolutely not hesitate to shoot you if you try and push the issue. So the end result of all of this is; is that anyone who has ever served with tankers and has half a brain in their head, knows that the one thing you don't ever do, is disrespect them by putting your hands on their tank without first asking for permission.

I looked back to Hightower as the Colonel, who'd finally recovered from his coughing spell, renewed his verbal assault on the lethargic tank commander, "I'm not sure Mr. Hightower, but I do think he's pissed enough to try. We'd better get over there before he does something stupid."

"Too late." Hightower pointed just in time for me to see the Colonel, who'd finally had enough of the tanker's insolence, pull himself onto the gigantic Lehman Russ to teach him a lesson."

"Colonel, get your ass down from there right now!" But it was too late. The lazy looking Sergeant had instantly snapped back to life, and from the look on his face, was now preparing to do great bodily harm to Colonel Tacker.

Hightower and I started running just as the track commander very quickly lifted himself out of the hatch and headed directly for where the Colonel was busy climbing. The Colonel saw none of this as he was still totally occupied with trying to mount the man's tank. He'd finally gotten on top of the armor surrounding the tracks and had just popped his head up high enough to see over the turret when the tanker rewarded all of this effort with a very stout kick to his face.

Colonel Tacker flew completely off the man's tank and landed flat on his back totally stunned over what had just been done to him without so much as a moment's hesitation. The tank commander, now thoroughly pissed off, hopped down to finish what he'd started.

I arrived just in time to prevent what could have turned into a very ugly scene, "That will be quite enough, Sergeant." My firm voice caught the tanker just in time to prevent him from molly-whopping the Colonel all over his precious front lawn.

The man stopped, looked up to me, and took a long pull from his narc-tube "Who the hell are you?" The man's voice was gruff from years of smoking

"Lieutenant Frost; I'm the one whose orders had you men sent here."

The man looked at me for a minute before responding with a very half-hearted attempt at a salute with his stick of obscura still hanging from the corner of his mouth, "Sergeant First Class Raker, reporting as ordered." He dropped his salute before I even had a chance to return it and continued, "What the frag is this guy's problem?" He said pointing at the Colonel who'd just gotten up.

"What's my problem?!" The Colonel roared, "I'll tell you what my god-damned…"

"Shut your mouth Colonel, or I'll give you a whole lot more to cry about," I snapped. Colonel Tacker shut his mouth and took a couple of steps away from the both of us. Sergeant Raker's unshaven face screwed up in a confused manner that said he'd obviously missed something, but wasn't quite sure what that something was.

"I'm in command here Sergeant; I've taken over for the Colonel. I'm in charge of this facility and its protection from here on out." He nodded his head in acknowledgement and leaned back up against his tank as I continued, "How many of you are there?"

"Just my platoon, chief; that's ten fully combat operational Lehman Russes, ready to kill whatever the hell it is you think needs killin'. I'm the NCOIC. Our OIC's not here; he left me in charge as he's currently preparing to deploy to the Eastern Provinces with the rest of our division. And on a more personal note, you better hope there's actually something coming here, because if me and my boys miss out on this war just so some god-damned bureaucrat can sleep better at night; I'm personally gonna kick your ass." The look on his face told me beyond a shadow of a doubt that he meant every word of it.

I smiled widely, I was beginning to like this guy; he was definitely my type of soldier. "Sergeant you can trust me when I tell you; that you guys will most likely get the first confirmed kills of this entire war." That brought a smile to his face as I continued, "So I hereby order you and your men, to take your tanks and position them in a way that surrounds the entire perimeter of this palace with overlapping fields of fire. I also want you to intentionally leave a gap in your defensive posture on this side of the building; I want you to make it appear as if you're actually trying to stay off of the front lawn to protect its landscaping."

He nodded his head and flicked the butt of his narc-tube in the direction of Colonel Tacker, "So I take it they've got scouts watching us right now."

"I'm absolutely sure of it Sergeant, and I want them to see everything you're doing. But enough of that for now, I'll explain everything else you need to know in the combat readiness briefing. I'll be giving that briefing in the palace's conference room in exactly one hour. I want you to go ahead and bring yourself and all of your track commanders so that everyone's on the same page; you read me?"

"Yes Sir," he responded without hesitation. He then turned and started barking orders to his crew and over his vox to the rest of his platoon. With utmost efficiency all of Sergeant Raker's Lehman Russ battle tanks started firing up and moving out to take-up defensive positions.

"Mr. Hightower," I said looking to my assistant, "I want you to get a landscaping crew here within the hour to clean up those tracks. Tell them that money is not an object and I want this lawn back to the way it was before these tanks arrived. And tell them it must be done before tomorrow night or they don't get paid."

"Yes Sir."

I looked over to the stunned Colonel Tacker, "Come with me."

"Why the hell did he follow your orders when he wouldn't even listen to me?" The Colonel asked as he tried to catch up with me.

"He's a tanker Colonel, they don't respond very well to idiots."

He brushed the insult off, "But that doesn't explain why he jumped so quickly for a Lieutenant's orders over those of a Colonel." He still couldn't understand how I'd succeeded where he'd so horribly failed.

"Colonel, I sat out here for a good five minutes and watched you bitch that man completely up one side and down the other; and not once in the entire time you were busy making a fool out of yourself, did I hear you give that man so much as a single order." The truth behind my words stopped the Colonel dead in his tracks. "And to top it all off," I said when he caught back up with me, "You thoroughly disrespected him and his entire crew by jumping onto his tank without asking for permission."

He looked at me harshly, "Well if you're so god-damned smart Lieutenant; could you please tell why the hell you didn't you stop me?"

"Because Colonel, I wanted you to make a fool out of yourself." I grinned, "By letting you make a complete and total ass of yourself, you unwittingly helped me sell the unexplainable gap in our defensive perimeter to the enemy's scouts, who at this very moment; are observing every single move we make."

He walked with me in complete silence for a minute or two before asking, "Well then, could you please tell me how the hell is it that you're so god-damned sure that they're even watching us?"

"Because Colonel, if it were me out there planning an attack on this building; I'd be doing the same thing; and so would you." I left the befuddled Colonel in my wake as the apparent logic behind my statement once again stopped him dead in his tracks.

 **Chapter 21**

"We are here for one purpose," I said in a voice that shook the auditorium, "One purpose alone." My voice echoed in solemnity, "We are here to kill those traitorous sons of whores who have come to this planet with the sole intention of destroying everything you people hold dear." I looked around the room to the three hundred plus men I had assembled to make up my task-force; I had their complete and utter attention. "And we _will,_ be absolutely successful in our task. When they come, we will be ready. And we will show them no quarter; we will destroy every last one of them. WE, WILL, SHOW, NO, MERCY!" I yelled. "Hooah?!"

"HOOAH!" The room reverberated with the men's bass-filled yell of confirmation."

"Outstanding. Having said that; I want you men to know that our job here will not be easy. The men coming to this place; are easily, the most dangerous enemies the Imperium has ever known." I pulled up a picture of a Chaos Marine on the giant screen behind me and paused for a minute to let the men take in the runes engraved upon its armor.

"Everyone stand up!" Most of the men in the room obeyed instantly, but some had frozen. I looked around to see how many of them had; there were about thirty. "Bring anyone still seated to the front right now." I ordered. The soldiers sitting next to the men who'd locked up grabbed them by their arms and drug them to the front of the stage to stand before me. I turned off the image, and approached one of the smallest men of the group, "You, what's your name soldier?"

He didn't respond, he was still dazed from the sight of the Marine. I slapped him hard, "WAKE UP!" He snapped back and regarded me in a very confused manner, "What happened to you? Why did you not follow my order to stand when I gave it?" I asked punitively.

"I, I don't know Sir." He stated honestly. "What's your name Private?"

"Private First Class Jacob Yorhine, Sir."

I stared down at him long and hard until I was sure he was thoroughly uncomfortable, "Do you believe in the Emperor Private? Do you serve him faithfully?"

"Yes Sir, I go to worship every week with my family. I never miss."

"That's very admirable Private, I respect that." I then addressed the room, "This here, is a man of faith." I grabbed Yorhine by the shoulders and turned him around to face the rest of the men. "But he froze at a mere picture of one of the Emperor's traitorous children. Is this man a coward?"

I saw a lot of the men nod their heads in agreement and some of them even called him names. "Shut up; all of you!" I yelled it so harshly that I'd stunned every man in the room into silence, "This man is no coward; he was just unprepared, and I can guarantee you men with utmost certainty, that when they show up in the flesh, a lot more of you will react as Private Yorhine did. Of this, I have no doubt, no doubt at all; unless you men prepare yourselves now." I turned Private Yorhine back around to face the screen, by this time all of the other men who'd frozen had regained their senses. "The rest of you can sit down." I waited as they retook their seats. "Private I'm going to show you that image again, but this time I want you to think of the Emperor's face as you look upon it. Do you understand me?"

"Yes Sir."

"Very good; do you have a good picture of the Emperor in your head?"

"Yes Sir I do."

"Okay then, keep it there." I pulled the image back up and gave

Private Yorhine a chance to take it all in.

"Private?"

"Yes?"

"Are you still with us?" "Yes Sir I am."

"Does thinking of the Emperor help you see this beast for what it really is?"

"Yes Sir."

"And what is it that you see?"

"I see a coward. Yes, he's a coward. He's afraid of my faith."

"Very good Private; very good. Now do you know what that coward wants to do?" I put my arm around the smaller man's shoulder to lend him support as he was clearly straining.

"No Sir, I do not."

"He wants you to fear him. He wants you to fear him so that he can kill you." I lowered my voice so everyone in the room had to pay really close attention to hear what I was saying, "And do you know what he'll do after he kills you?" It was time to give this man some rage.

"No Sir I do not."

"He's going to go to your house, rape your wife, and kill your children. And with you dead, there will be absolutely nothing you can do to stop him"

"FRAG THAT!" Private Yorhine yelled.

"Are you going to let him go to your house and rape you wife and kill your children?"

"FRAG NO!" Spittle flew from his mouth.

"Then what the hell are you going to do to stop him then?"

"I'M GOING TO FRAGGING KILL THAT MOTHERFRAGGER!" His voice was now full of rage.

I pulled the sidearm from my hip and handed it to him, "What's stopping you?"

He snatched the bolter from me without hesitation, raised it up, and dumped every single round into the Marine displayed upon the pic-screen; completely destroying it, and causing the entire room to jump with the suddenness of his unexpected action. After he'd emptied the entire clip he absentmindedly kept squeezing the trigger over and over again. I very carefully took the bolter from him and told him to sit down.

I again addressed the room, "When these people come, I want all of you to know _exactly_ what it is you're fighting for. Think about it. Think about it long and hard. And when you have it in your head; I want you to tell whatever that thing is to the man sitting to the right and left of you." I paused then to let them think about what I'd just asked them to, "Now go ahead and share whatever it is that's most important to you, to those men sitting next to you." I paused again as they did what I'd told them.

When I was satisfied they'd all done as instructed, I continued, "If we fail, these traitors will take whatever it is that you just said you care about more than anything else in the world, and tear it to shreds. They are very good at this. They have been doing it for the last ten thousand years."

I paused for effect, "They rarely fail." I looked at the group of men who now all had looks of sheer determination on their faces, "But where they have succeeded countless times before; I promise you men, that against us, on this day, in this very house," I raised my voice to crescendo, "THEY… WILL… NOT… SUCCEED!"

The room erupted. It damn near became a riot with men jumping up and down, swearing, and screaming to the Emperor that they would be the ones to kill these bastards. I looked around the room and the intensity of the men's spirit sent chills up my spine; I had truly set match to a raging fire of hate within their souls. I smiled as I looked all around and nodded my head in affirmation to the various oaths of loyalty the men were now swearing to me. I was just about to settle them down when my eyes locked upon a familiar face in the very back of the auditorium.

It was Shrock. And he had that damned grin of his written all over his face. He stared at me for a moment and then issued me a very crisp salute. I returned it and then beckoned the men to settle down. It took a couple minutes before they calmed themselves enough for me to continue, "Men, I would now like to introduce you to the most arrogant, lowdown, murderous, god-forsaken, and downright sadistic son of a bitch, I've ever had the extreme misfortune of meeting. Having said all that, I must admit that he is also one of the most loyal, dedicated, and righteous, servants of the Emperor; the Imperium has ever seen."

Inquisitor Shrock approached the stage to join me, "Men, you've probably all seen his ugly face plastered all over your local newscasts by now; but I would still like to introduce you all, to my boss, Inquisitor Damon Shrock."

He was shaking his head as he hopped up onto the stage, "Sorry, Lieutenant I would have been here earlier, but I had to change my uniform; it was completely covered in the filthy blood of traitorous bureaucrats. By the way, you should have just ended the introduction with the whole sadistic son of a bitch thing. I actually liked that part; it has a very nice ring to it."

"I thought you weren't coming."

"I wasn't, until I realized that I'd much rather die here, than risk having you figure out a way to survive this whole extremely ill-advised affair without me. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I actually allowed you to get ahold of something to use against me whenever I'm in the process of belittling you in the future." With that, he turned away to face the men.

"My name is Inquisitor Damon Shrock, and I would like to begin by asking you men to forgive my extremely late arrival. You see I was very busy these last few days at your Parliament executing politicians." That got him a very long and drawn out round of applause complete with hoots and hollers. He gave a series of very exaggerated and sweeping bows before continuing, "Thank you, thank you, I was really just trying to do the whole planet a favor," He said feigning humility and getting more than a couple of laughs in the process.

After the laughter died down he pressed on, "What do any of you men really know about Lieutenant Mabien Frost?" There was no answer so he went on, "Did any of you men know that Lieutenant Frost is arguably the best sniper in the entire Imperial Military?" He waited for a couple of seconds, "No? None of you knew that? Well how about this; did any of you know; that next to me, Lieutenant Frost is the best swordsman in the entire Inquisition?"

You arrogant prick; _I am_ the best swordsman in the Inquisition. I brushed off the small lie behind his statement and allowed him to continue, "You didn't know that either? Okay, now here's one for you that will really blow your minds; did any of you know, that Lieutenant Frost, is an actual living recipient of The Cross of the Imperium?" Shrock watched as that last statement caught the men so completely off-guard that it caused many of them to issue audible gasps.

"It's true; he won it this very year. It was awarded to him because he did something that many, including myself, believed absolutely impossible for any one man to do. Lieutenant Frost, singlehandedly, killed three Space Marines, all by himself." He paused again to watch the men's mouths drop open.

"I can see that many of you are having a hard time believing what it is that you've just heard; and I must admit, that at one time I felt the same way. The truth is, I believed so strongly that what he did was so totally implausible for just one man to accomplish, that even after watching the video that proved that he had in fact, done the impossible; I still refused to believe it. And I'm very ashamed to say; that I actually planned to execute this man for doing nothing more than fulfilling his oath to protect the Imperium; no matter what that may require of him; impossible or not."

Another pause for effect, "Thankfully, wiser men than I intervened on his behalf. And because those men recognized what a valuable asset Lieutenant Frost had the potential of being; we now have the most capable man in the entire Imperium here to lead us to victory." He paused again to let the men contemplate all that he'd said.

"Over the course of the last year I've come to know Lieutenant Frost better than most men ever will. And the one thing that stands out about him more than anything else in my mind; is that the word "Impossible" can absolutely not, be found anywhere in his vocabulary. At first, I thought this was only because he was far too stupid to understand when he'd gone and bitten off more than he could possibly chew." He paused to let the men have a good laugh at my expense, "But over time, I came to realize, that his obstinate refusal to accept defeat, no matter how great the odds are stacked against him; is in all actuality, his single greatest attribute."

"Recently, I accessed Lieutenant Frost's combat logs in their entirety; what I saw utterly amazed me. Time after time, I watched as Lieutenant Frost found himself in truly desperate circumstances. Situations that would have caused most ordinary men to simply accept their fate and give up. _But every single time_ , Lieutenant Frost found a way to overcome, by taking what can only be described, as incredibly brave and instinctive action, that not only saved his own life, but those of the men around him." He paused again to let that sink in.

"In my not so humble opinion; Lieutenant Frost is a living embodiment of the definition of the word, "Warrior." This man knows no fear and is perfectly willing to lay his own life down in his service to the Emperor and his fellow soldier." He looked at me and grinned, "Look at that, I've made him blush, isn't that just precious." I shot him an obscene gesture as he condescended.

He paid it no attention and continued, "So to some things up; despite the fact that I find this ridiculously large man to be absolutely incorrigible, incredibly stupid, ignorant to the tenth degree, and a true candidate to hold the title of dumbest man alive," he paused again to let them all have another very long laugh at my red-faced expense, "there is absolutely no other man in the Imperium, that I'd rather have by my side in a life or death situation, than Lieutenant Mabien Frost. Thank you all for your time; and I sincerely hope; that I will not be forced to shoot any of you for cowardice in the face of duty." With that he turned around and left the stage to me.

I stepped forward again and looked to Shrock, "Thank you very much Inquisitor, I really do appreciate all that you've said of me."

"Go frag yourself you stupid prick." The whole room once again erupted with laughter at Shrock's completely unexpected response.

I stepped up and assumed a posture that let the men know I was about to bark orders, "Taskforce, on your feet!" The entire room stood up, "I have briefed all of your superiors on our plan of attack; they will give you men your orders after I dismiss you. But before you men go, I want you all to remember what it is that you're fighting for."

"You're fighting for your mothers, your fathers, your children, your brothers and sisters. You're fighting for your homes, your neighbor's homes, your neighbor's wives and children. You're fighting for the very survival of the planet you men call home. Every single person you know; their entire future will be decided by what we do here tonight; you owe it to all of them, to give everything you have; every last drop of strength, every last drop of blood, and even your very last breath; to defend their right to enjoy the rest of their lives free from oppression and tyranny, exactly as the Emperor intended them to."

"You all swore and oath to God the Emperor, to protect his Imperium no matter what the cost. I tell you men now; that your Emperor needs you to make good on that promise tonight; for the very survival of the Imperium depends upon the continued survival of the Ophidia you men call home. Have I made myself clear?"

"SIR, YES SIR!" They literally shook the room with their emphatic yell of validation.

"TASKFORCE… MOVE OUT!" The men jumped at my order and filed out of the auditorium with an extremely well-defined sense of purpose; leaving only Shrock, Mr. Hightower, the Colonel, and myself in their wake.

 **Chapter 22**

"Mr. Hightower, is everything ready?" I asked my assistant.

"Yes Sir, all the equipment you've requested has arrived and is in position, along with a couple of very interesting items Inquisitor Shrock brought with him."

I looked to Shrock who just smiled, "You'll see Lieutenant, let's just keep it a surprise for now."

I eyed him suspiciously, but the look on his face told me I'd have to wait to find out whatever it was he'd brought. I looked back to Hightower, "And the front lawn?"

"Restored to perfection; also, while the landscaping crews were at work, the Colonel and I took the liberty of positively identifying five of the enemy scouts watching this facility." I nodded my head as he continued, "From the look of things, you're right about which way they plan on attacking from; four of them are currently observing the front side of the palace."

"And the fifth?"

"Watching the backside Sir."

"Very good; they will launch a primary attack on the backside in an effort to draw our tanks away from their real point of entry. We will happily comply with their wishes and let them come through the front with just enough resistance to make everything seem believable."

"Mr. Hightower, I'm placing you in command of the primary ambush. I've accessed your old records from the Imperial Guard and I've seen that you've successfully engaged Chaotic forces on at least six separate occasions. This leads me to believe that you're not the type to freeze up; am I correct in that assumption?"

"Sir, I'd be lying if I said that Chaos didn't have some kind of effect on me, because it does. But to answer your question, no; I've never frozen in the heat of battle, and on more than one of those occasions you mentioned; I actually rallied the men around me, and was credited with saving all our lives in the process."

"Very good Mr. Hightower; it's now your responsibility to make sure those men under your command take care of business when the time comes. Now move out."

"Yes Sir." He said before running off to follow his orders.

I then looked to Colonel Tacker, "Colonel, have we been successful in maintaining appearances?"

"I believe so Sir; all the arms, munitions, and men you've requested, have come in through the use of the standard supply trucks that typically frequent this facility on a daily basis. In my mind, there is absolutely nothing we've done that would even slightly suggest to the enemy what's really going on here. And on a more personal note Lieutenant; I'm very much impressed by your extreme level of professionalism at pulling this whole thing together on such short notice. I would also like to apologize to you for any doubts I may have had about your ability to effectively run this operation."

"I accept your apology Colonel; and I would also like to say that I'm equally impressed by your level of willingness to follow orders and accept my superior level of expertise over your own."

"By the Emperor you two; I really wish I had a camera right now, so I could take a picture and have undeniable proof of how sickeningly proficient the both of you are at kissing each other's asses." Shrock broke our train of thought causing us both to involuntarily laugh at his incredibly dry sense of humor.

"Alright Shrock, you win. Colonel, you'll be running things from the Command and Control bunker; I've had an encrypted line set up there between this facility and our ship, _The Emperor's Wrath,_ which is currently monitoring this facility and the surrounding area from low planetary orbit. When the enemy moves, you'll be the first to know, and it will be your responsibility to inform the rest of us of what's happening and to adjust our forces accordingly. Also, if their diversionary attack happens to be more than the tanks can handle, it will be on you to give the order for our ship to rain down fire from space. But I cannot impress upon you enough; that that's to be your last possible course of action. If we destroy the decoy force too quickly, the Marines will not make themselves known, and we will have then failed in our primary objective; which is the positive elimination of as many of those bastards as possible. You got me?"

"Yes Sir, I will absolutely not call in orbital support unless it becomes clear to me that the tanks are going to be overrun."

"Very good Colonel, move out." I watched as the Colonel very purposefully marched off for the C&C bunker. After he was gone I turned to face Shrock, "Inquisitor, I'd like you to stay with me."

"Why Lieutenant, what is it that you'll have me do in the very short time we have left before those Marines arrive to kill us all?"

"Loosen up Inquisitor, smile a bit; you and I are about to have a whole lot of fun together."

"What part of this extremely foolish plan of yours could possibly be considered fun?"

"Well for starters, you and I are about to go and do the one thing I enjoy doing far more than anything else in the entirety of the Emperor's sacred Imperium."

He looked at me dubiously, "Okay Lieutenant, you have my attention; what exactly is it that we're going to be doing that could possibly divert my mind away from the fact that in very short order we're all going to meet extremely bloody and painful deaths?"

I looked at Shrock in an extremely serious manner, "For Emperor's sake Inquisitor, loose the damn attitude and get with the fraggin' program already."

"Now here's the way I see it, right now you only have two possible options; the first is to just sit here and continue to bitch about the hopelessness of our current situation."

"And the second?"

"You can quit your god-damned griping, come with me to the roof, and join in on all of the truly great fun I'm about to have at the enemy's expense."

"What the hell does the roof have to do with anything?"

I shot him one of my own sadistic grins, "The roof, is where I plan to pick a fight with the enemy of course." I turned and headed for the elevators, leaving a very confused Inquisitor in my wake.

"Where are they?" I asked the man lying to the left of me who was manning the sniper's nest on the eastern corner of the front side of the palace. The autumn sun was just beginning to set in the west and Shrock was also lying in the prone to my right, still completely clueless as to exactly what it was I planned to do.

Without pointing and giving away the fact that we were on to them; the guard replied, "You see the all black high-rise on the edge of the city proper about three clicks out?"

"Yeah, I got it."

"Tenth floor, eastern corner, and eleventh floor western corner." Keeping my head low; I adjusted the optic to magnify the specified building and found both targets with little difficulty.

"Got em'," I set down the imaging devise and looked over to Shrock,

"Inquisitor, could you please pass me the black case that's sitting there beside your leg?" He looked towards his leg, reached back, grabbed ahold of its handle, and then carefully passed the case to me.

I took it from him and sat up so that my legs were now extended straight out in front of me. I placed the case on the ground between them and proceeded to click open the latches that held it shut. Before opening the box, I looked over to Inquisitor Shrock and the guard who were both still lying in the prone on either side of me, "Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you both to the one and only love of my life." I then reverently opened the case to reveal my precious SK-43, "This is my rifle, there aren't many like it, but this one is mine." I paused for a second to let them take in the sight of my beautiful baby. "All these half-ass snipers seem to want to use laze-rifles anymore." I looked at the guard to the left of me who seemed not to have noticed the indirect slight, "They've all forgotten the truly awesome power only a fifty caliber bolter is capable of delivering at this kind of range."

That caught the guard's attention, "You know it's impossible to hit them from here right?" I paid him no attention as I removed the three sections of my rifle and started its assembly.

He pressed on, "The only thing you'll accomplish by shooting at them from this range; is alert them to the fact that we're on to them." I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and chuckled lightly. "I know you say that bolter has a lot of power Sir, but even if it does have enough ass behind it to make it there; there's no way you're going to get an accurate shot off at this distance."

"Shut your fragging trap!" Shrock barked, "I want to see this."

I finished the rifle's assembly and slid its bolt back and forth a couple of times to make sure the action was still true; it was. I then pulled out my targeting slate from the case and looked to the doubtful guard, "What's the local grav? I need an exact number please."

"One point zero four five earth standard." He replied, indicating that Ophidia's mass was only four and a half percent greater than that of Earth. I entered the number on the data-slate.

"Atmospheric density?"

I entered the number exactly as he relayed it and then hit the icon on the screen that triggered the slate to do a very complex series of calculations. After a couple of seconds the computer came back and displayed a long line of numbers that only a handful of people in the entire Imperium could still understand; I just happen to be one of them.

As soon as I was satisfied the numbers were accurate, I pulled a small toolkit from the case and made the appropriate adjustments to my rifle. I smiled inwardly, knowing that my observers were both totally ignorant as to exactly what I was doing.

Once I'd finished with the toolkit, I placed it and the slate back into their perspective compartments within the case. I then reached up to the top side of the case and removed one of the preloaded LRA (long-range antipersonnel) mags from its cutout in the case's polystyrene inlay. I slapped the mag in and charged the weapon to chamber a round. I then leaned my rifle against the palace's parapet, closed its case, and handed the box to my half-assed, wannabe-sniper, subordinate.

"Now it's time for the fun part." I laid back into the prone position between Inquisitor Shrock and the guard. I grabbed hold of my bolter and crept up as close as I could to set the barrel of my rifle into the space in the parapet designed specifically for that purpose. "Inquisitor Shrock, would you like to be my spotter?"

"What do you want me to do Lieutenant?" He asked in a way that clearly said to me he'd never before seen a true sniper at work.

"Take this optic and watch my target. Your job is to carefully observe the flight-path of my bullet and tell me exactly where it makes impact so I can adjust my aim accordingly. You got me?"

"How the hell am I supposed to see a bullet traveling at a couple of thousand kilometers an hour Lieutenant?"

"By its vapor trail," I explained, "As the bullet travels through the air, it will create a pocket of negative barometric pressure behind it. That sudden drop in pressure will cause the water in the air to rapidly condense along its flight path. This condensation will subsequently produce a slightly visible distortion in the planet's atmosphere that will precisely follow the bullet's trajectory."

Shrock looked at me long and hard, "How the hell do you know all of this?"

"The same way you know all you do about sniffing out Chaos cults; it's my job to know these things and I've been doing it for a very long time."

He looked to the guard on the other side of me, "Did _you_ know any of this before he just explained it to me?"

The man instantly became red in the face, "Uh, yeah. I knew it, of course I did. I mean uh, I would have explained it to you myself you see, but uh, I just didn't want to steal any of the LT's thunder." I chuckled at the man's horrible attempt to fib his way out of revealing the true depth of his incompetence.

"Gentlemen we do have some very important work to attend to. These assholes aren't going to shoot themselves." I pulled the rifle tightly to my shoulder and looked down the scope towards my first target on the tenth floor of the black building. "Inquisitor, could you please lock your optic in on the man on the tenth floor and shoot distance."

"Shoot distance?"

"Press the little red button and tell me what the number says." I waited for him to figure it out.

"It says two thousand, eight hundred and six meters." Inquisitor Shrock finally stated.

"Like I said LT, it's way too far."

"SHUT UP!" Shrock and I barked simultaneously.

"Inquisitor, now I want you to hit the green button on the other side of the optic and tell me what that readout is."

"It says southeast, three kilometers per hour." His response gave me the direction of the wind and its average speed from our position to the target.

Having all of the necessary information to make this incredibly difficult series of shots, I cycled through my targets to get the motion down. Once I was satisfied I could pull the two shots off in quick enough succession, I adjusted my aim. I would have to aim incredibly high and just slightly to the right of my targets for the bullet to follow the correct course needed to hit them. "Sergeant," I said to the guard lying to the left of me, "I want you to take your optic and observe the man on the eleventh floor."

"Yes Sir."

I locked in on the first target and zoomed in; he was in an open window, casually sitting on something I couldn't see just inside of it, with an optic of his own held to his eyes. He seemed to be far more concerned with watching the guards patrolling the grounds than anything we were doing on the roof. It made perfect sense when I thought about it; after all, he was just under three clicks out; he was obviously very comfortable in the fact that from that distance, no laze-rifle in the Imperium could do anything more than singe his eye brows.

I checked the second target who was also sitting by the window; he had his feet up on its sill, leaned back, with his arms folded across his chest. He appeared to be sound asleep. Better for me I guess; if I happened to miss with my first shot I would definitely have a chance to fire another before he knew what was happening.

I retargeted the first man and made the necessary adjustments to my aim, "Alright boys, firing in three… two… one…" I held my breath and slowly squeezed the trigger.

BOOM! The massive fifty caliber round kicked the rifle hard into my shoulder. I didn't even wait to see if I'd hit, I instantly readjusted my aim and pulled the trigger again. BOOM!

I knew I'd shot with absolute perfection both times, so I set down the rifle without even waiting for confirmation.

Not realizing how long it actually takes a bullet to traverse this kind of distance, Shrock started hesitantly, "Lieutenant, I think you may have missed…"

"Really? Why don't you take another look just to be sure."

He looked at me for a moment before doing as I said, "Uh, never mind that last bit, you hit. He no longer has a head by the way."

The guard to my left looked back to me in complete and utter disbelief before reporting, "Wow, mine still has his head Sir, but I'm afraid it's no longer attached to his body."

I looked to both of my shocked observers, "And that my friends, is how you pick a fight." I then grabbed my vox and pulled it to my mouth, "Colonel, this is Frost."

"Go ahead Lieutenant."

"I want you to order the local police to begin a room-by-room search of every single high-rise that has direct line of sight with this facility."

It took a couple of moments before he responded, "Sir, that's going to be a tough order to get them to agree to on such short notice."

Shrock held his hand out, "If I may Lieutenant," I passed him the vox and watched as he put it to his mouth with that damned grin of his, "Colonel, this is Inquisitor Shrock; I want you to tell the Chief of Police that the order to search those buildings came straight from the Inquisition. I would also like you to inform him, that if for any reason he fails to comply with this order immediately; I will personally find him, and every member of his staff, guilty of dereliction of duty in a wartime situation."

It took a couple of minutes before the Colonel came back on the line, "Sir uh, I mean Inquisitor; I just spoke to the Chief of Police and told him exactly what you said."

Before Inquisitor Shrock could inquire as to what the Chief's response had been; dozens, if not, hundreds of police sirens started sounding off in the distance; all coming from the direction of the city proper. Inquisitor Shrock smiled widely, "Is there anything else you need?"

Shrock truly was a sadistic bastard; by now his very public string of mass executions had thoroughly gotten across the point he'd set out to make; that his word was law, and his authority was absolutely beyond question. Now despite how distasteful I may find his methods to be; there's simply no arguing with results. Inquisitor Shrock had struck so much fear into the hearts of the planet's bureaucracy; that I'm sure it would only have taken him one very well-placed vox transmission, to have the Vice-President himself hand-deliver us a tray of pastries.

"No Inquisitor, that ought to do it. I'm sure the police won't find any of the enemy's scouts, but that's not the point."

"Then why did you have me order them to search the buildings then?"

"Because Inquisitor; those scouts I've left alive will now have to evacuate their positions and report back to their superiors they've been discovered. Without eyes on target, the Marines will be forced to implement their plan of attack before we can do anything to further fortify this position. To maintain any kind of tactical advantage they may think they still have, they must now move on us tonight."

"Why are you so dead set on doing this tonight?"

"The main reason is the longer we sit here waiting for them, the more likely they are to figure out exactly what it is that we're up to. Right now their plan is to break through our perimeter defenses, make short work of whoever happens to be inside, and finally, kill the President."

"What they don't know; is that I want them to break through the perimeter defenses, make it inside, figure out that the President is nowhere to be found, and shortly thereafter, meet as you so eloquently put it; their own very bloody and painful deaths. For all of this to occur, I must leave them with no other choice than to attack before they have a chance to work out what's really going on here."

Shrock looked at me for a moment and a smile slowly began to form itself on his face, "I guess you're not quite as dumb as I'd always thought you to be."

"Why thank you Shrock… I think?"

"Don't thank me Lieutenant, at this point I only consider you to be mildly retarded; whereas before, I was positively sure you were severely afflicted by an undiagnosed mental handicap of one variety or another." The guard lying to my left started laughing quietly at his very well-articulated back-handed compliment.

"Now before you even put word to the pathetic comeback your puny little brain is so desperately trying to put together," Shrock's words rudely interrupted the retort that he so correctly assumed I was working on, "I would beckon you to come with me to see the lovely gifts I have brought in for you. My hope is that you'll be able to use these things in a way that will significantly increase my chances for surviving this extremely foolish affair." With that he got quickly to his feet and walked off; leaving behind a very confused me.

 **Chapter 23**

"What the hell is it?" I asked as I stared in awe at the monstrosity Inquisitor Shrock had just presented.

"It's a rifle you idiot, what else could it possibly be?"

"Shrock, I've seen a million rifles, so you can trust me when I tell you; that that thing is definitely not a rifle. Granted, it does somewhat look like one, but there is no way in hell I could possibly hope to carry it." I was staring in complete disbelief at what appeared to be the largest rifle in the history of mankind. It was easily five times the size of my SK- 43; and though it didn't have a shotgun attached to it, it was also very similar in appearance. It was so heavily built that it looked to weigh at least a hundred kilos. I could also see that it had a manually operated bolt, but instead of a grip just large enough to wrap one or two fingers around; the bolt had a handle meant to be grabbed by my entire hand.

"Of course you can't carry it you buffoon; that's what the tripod is for." He pointed to a devise that was meant to support the weight of the so-called rifle in the corner. He then looked back to the behemoth of a gun, "From what the tech-priest who built it tells me; this rifle…"

I cut him off, "It's not a fragging rifle Shrock; let's get that straight right now."

"Okay smartass, what shall we call it then?"

I thought about it for a minute before responding, "Let's call it a manually operated, single-action, heavy-caliber, high-velocity, helix-bored bolter… And or cannon."

Shrock looked at me long and hard before continuing in a very annoyed voice, "As I was saying; this _rifle,_ fires a twenty- five millimeter shell, at an incredibly high velocity. Its velocity is so great in fact, that it's fully capable of penetrating up to seventy-five centimeters of reinforced rockcrete. The priest who designed it, actually told me what the exact velocity was down to meters-per-second, but for the life of me, I can't remember what that number is. All you need to know; is that there isn't a set of power-armor in the known universe that will even slow one of these things down." He threw me an extremely large bullet that was big enough for me to wrap both hands around.

I looked at it long and hard before speaking again, "Shrock, there's absolutely no way in the world I will even attempt to fire that thing. The recoil alone will probably kill me; or at the very least, break every single bone in my shoulder."

"Unless…" He said trying to lead me into figuring out the solution to our current dilemma for myself.

I didn't have time for his games, "Unless what?!"

He looked at me clearly exasperated, "Tell me something Lieutenant; when you were given the square-peg, round-hole test in grade school; exactly how long did it take you to figure out that the square-peg would not fit into the round-hole?"

"About as long as it took me to figure out that firing this thing without a power-suit would be suicide." I finally got the point Shrock was trying to make, "So where is it Inquisitor?"

"Follow me." I followed as he turned and walked into the adjacent

room.

My mouth dropped open as my eyes were greeted by two suits of armor the likes of which I'd never seen in my entire life. They looked very similar in design to the recon suit I'd already worn a thousand times before, but appeared to be at least a hundred years more technologically advanced. They were beyond magnificent, astonishingly beautiful, amazingly sleek, and incredibly menacing, all at the same time.

Shrock smiled widely as I walked around them in complete awe, taking in the unbelievably high level of craftsmanship and attention to detail that was readily apparent within their awe-inspiring design. Not only that, they appeared to weigh significantly less that the recon armor I was used to wearing; I would even go so far to say that I'd probably still be able to move in one of them even if it suffered total power failure.

"Say hello to the Mark Three Advanced Reconnaissance Suit. These power-suits aren't set to go into full-scale production for at least another hundred years." Shrock explained as I continued to examine these breathtakingly beautiful weapons of war.

"A hundred years? Why in the hell will it take that long?" I asked.

"The tech-priests of Mars who built these things are just strange like that." I looked at him quizzically forcing him to elaborate further, "They're more machine than human anymore Lieutenant."

I knew there was a good story to here so I continued to look at him in a way that demanded further explanation

"You're really going to make me explain all of this to you now?"

"We have time Inquisitor. Besides, it'll help take your mind off our impending deaths for a couple of minutes." He stared at me with a look of exasperation on his face; still not believing I was really going to make him do this right now. I grinned at him widely and held my arms out in a way that told him I was fully prepared to wait all night to hear this story. He finally let out a very long and drawn out sigh of annoyance, finally realizing that he'd better just tell me now and get it the hell over with.

"Fine Lieutenant, you win; I'll tell you the story since it's pretty obvious you won't let this drop until I do. Now could you please tell me where I was?"

"You just said something about them being more machine than human."

"Ah yes, that's right. Well this fact about themselves makes them feel superior to those of us who have chosen to retain our humanity. Many of them honestly feel that they are truly the next step in human evolution and look at the rest of us as nothing more than apes with significantly less hair. This misguided sense of superiority often causes them to fail to take into consideration, that without us lowly humans and the protection we provide, they would be completely unable to enjoy the lives of research and development they so value."

I took all this in for a moment before speaking, "I was wrong about you Shrock. You aren't the most arrogant bastard in the Imperium after all; these pricks have you beat by a longshot."

He paid me no attention as he continued, "Now because of these things, the technologies they develop are frequently kept secret from the rest of the Imperium for centuries; sometimes even millennia. Take these suits for instance; they were completed well over a hundred years ago, but Voke just managed to get his hands on them within the last ten."

"Why in the hell would they want to withhold this kind of weaponry from the Imperial Military for so damned long?"

"I'm glad you're still paying attention, but to answer your question; it's because they've grown to fear the human condition. Their main fear; is that if they give us these advanced technologies before we're ready for them, they could accidentally trigger humanity to fall into another Dark-Age of Technology, when scientific achievement and progress ran absolutely wild and resulted in the near destruction of the entire human race."

"Okay," I replied, "But if all you say is true; then how is it that Inquisitor Voke managed to get his hands on these?"

"Ah, now you're asking the real questions. First and foremost; the tech-priests of Mars have come to understand that the Inquisition is the one thing that has kept, and continues to keep Mars from falling into the grips of Chaos."

I interrupted then, "What do you mean the Inquisition is still keeping them from falling into the hands of Chaos? I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but I've always been taught that the Horus Heresy was the one and only time Chaotic forces ever made it anywhere near Mars or Earth; and that happened well over ten-thousand years ago."

He looked at me for a moment in a very serious manner before continuing, "That's the problem with Chaos Lieutenant; sometimes people can become corrupted by its influence without ever once coming into direct contact with it. Every so often, our own Emperor given curiosity leads us to look too deeply into certain things that we should never attempt to. When this happens and we delve too deeply; we can actually cause an accidental release of Chaos into the realm of the material."

"Mars is a perfect example of this. On a planet where nearly every single member of its population is actively engaged in some kind of incredibly advanced research; it's very easy to miss someone whose studies are leading them right up to the Devil's front door."

"Now despite the fact that there's usually a bunch of huge flashing LED signs leading up to this door, clearly stating that it belongs to the Devil, and that knocking on it would be a _huge_ mistake, these misguided tech-priests, often so blinded by their own sense of superiority, callously ignore every last one of these blaringly apparent warnings, and then proceed to go ahead and beat their way in without even the slightest bit of regard for the potential consequences of their actions."

"But what about the Omnissiah; it's a God right? Surely its mere proximity should prevent this type of thing from happening."

He chuckled lightly, "But who created the Omnissiah? We did. And the Emperor created us. Now if the Emperor himself couldn't prevent man from becoming corrupted by Chaos; what makes you think that a man-made God, that _we created_ , could possibly succeed where he had failed?"

His bullet-proof logic could not be argued with, "Okay then, so where does the Inquisition come into all of this?"

"We come in because we can see the potential for corruption far more quickly than the high priests of Mars could ever hope to. The loss of the humanity which they believe to be their greatest strength also happens to be their greatest weakness against the corruptive influences of Chaos. They are nearly incapable of recognizing the dangers that are so readily apparent to those highly trained members of the Inquisition that now maintain a permanent presence on their Martian home-world."

"So I take it this is the part where Inquisitor Voke comes in."

"And you would be correct in that assumption." He responded, "Before Inquisitor Voke came along, the Priests of Mars would only call upon the Inquisition after it became absolutely clear to them that whatever evil had been accidently released, could not be contained through traditional means; this usually involved mass purges within their own population."

"Okay Shrock I get it; now get to the good stuff already."

"I'm getting there so cool your ion-jets." He admonished before continuing on with his story. "About a hundred and twenty years ago; a particularly ambitious tech-priest named Primus Dimerum, was experimenting with some form of incredibly advanced technology called trans-warp teleportation. He believed his research would eventually make it possible to instantaneously move people and material through the warp from one location to another."

"For example; as of today, to get from Earth to Ophidia, you would have to board an extremely large vessel equipped with warp-field generators, use it to tear a hole in the fabric of space-time, and then fly that ship through the warp for the better part of a year before completing the journey. With Dimerum's technology, you could theoretically travel that exact same distance in as little as five minutes, and all you would have to do to accomplish this; would be to step onto one of his teleportation pads and hit a button."

"That's amazing." I said, instantly recognizing the potential implications behind the Imperium's possession of such a technology.

"That's what his superiors thought too. But what he and all the high-priests of Mars failed to recognize, is that the demons that naturally inhabit the warp are made up entirely of pure energy; and that by beaming a stream of pure energy by a being comprised of pure energy, they could possibly provide it with a means to escape the warp and thereby release itself into the realm of the material."

"And this is exactly what happened. After two successful tests of this so -called trans-warp teleportation, he'd also unknowingly succeeded in alerting a particularly nasty demon by the name of Bulgerath, Destroyer of Worlds, to a potential means of escape; which it then took full advantage of on Dimerum's third test."

"So then what happened?" I asked, now fully ensconced into the story.

"Thankfully, despite the incredible power this demon possessed, it also had very short foresight. Instead of letting Dimerum, who was completely ignorant to the fact that he'd accidently released something, continue his testing and thereby release countless other demons, Bulgerath was selfish. He foolishly thought he could corrupt Mars all by himself and then move on to Earth and singlehandedly destroy the Human Empire."

Thinking this, he immediately killed Dimerum and destroyed all of his research to prevent someone from figuring out how to go about teleporting him back into the depths of the warp. He then infected himself into the global computer system of the Martian home- world and subsequently proceeded to corrupt every single person he came into contact with. By the time the high priests caught onto him, he'd already successfully corrupted nearly fifty thousand people."

"They ended up purging almost twice that number in an attempt to put a stop to it. But being that he'd already infected the computer system itself, they could never hope to contain him, no matter how many people they purged. No matter what they did or how many people they killed he just kept resurfacing to start the whole process over again. After nearly a year of this vicious cycle; they reluctantly swallowed their pride and called upon the Inquisition to help rid themselves finally and forever, of this most foul of demons."

"This is where the legend of Inquisitor Voke was born. He was assigned the task of ridding Mars of this demon and he went at this assignment with all of the intelligence, skill, and determination that he was already very well-known for."

"So how did he do it?" I asked.

"Well the first thing he did was almost inconceivable to the Martian leadership at the time; he forced them to shut down the MGN."

"MGN?"

"Martian Global Network," he replied absentmindedly, "And as a result of this brilliant maneuver, this malevolent entity was forced to go about its business in a much more conventional manner; which in turn, made it far easier to contain to a certain locality."

"Having successfully restricted Bulgerath to a specific area, Inquisitor Voke then proceeded to slowly tighten his ring of containment around the beast until he finally had it alone and completely trapped within a data processing facility near the summit of Olympus Mons."

"So I take it that's when he went in and killed it?"

"Not quite Lieutenant; before he went in to deal with Bulgerath once and for all, he struck a deal with the Lord High Priest of Mars. Ever the shrewd negotiator; Inquisitor Voke used his unique position of power to successfully negotiate an agreement with the High Priest that forced him to sign a pact with the Inquisition. In return for services provided; the Martian Government would allow us to henceforth and forever, maintain a permanent presence on Martian soil. Also worded into this contract, was language specifically giving the Inquisition exclusive right and privilege to any and all subsequently developed Martian technology that could be used in any way to further our cause against the forces of Chaos."

"That's remarkable." I stated, thoroughly impressed.

"Remarkable is not even the word for it Lieutenant; what he accomplished in that negotiation was absolutely unheard of in the entire history of the Emperor's sacred Imperium. Oh no, it wasn't remarkable by a long shot, it was downright legendary; and that act alone would have easily cemented his name among the pantheon of most great Inquisitors. But if that didn't do it, what he did next, surely did."

"What did he do?"

"He went into that facility alone, armed with nothing more than his faith in the Emperor and that very sword that is now strapped to your leg. As the legend goes; he fought the demon Bulgerath tooth and nail, for three days and nights in a truly epic battle between man and beast; emerging horribly battered and bruised, but victorious just as the sun was setting on the third and most terrible day of wretched combat."

I was about to ask him to continue with his story, but Colonel Tacker picked that moment to vox me, "Lieutenant Frost, this is Tacker."

"Go ahead Colonel."

"I've just received reports of at least two- dozen separate bombings on the south-side of the city. The damage is great and the casualties are going to number somewhere in the thousands; the city's entire police force has been diverted to help handle this situation. What do you make of this?"

"The shit's about to hit the fan Colonel, that's what I make of it. Tell the troops to steel their nerves and get ready; the Marines are on their way."

I looked over to Shrock who now looked even more pale than usual, "Time to suit up Inquisitor."

In response he pulled a small remote from one of his fatigue pockets and hit a button that caused both sets of power-armor to open up. "Lieutenant, I sincerely hope your uncanny ability to survive the impossible will include me this night."

As we proceeded to strip down to our underwear in preparation to don our power-suits I looked at him and smiled, "Relax Inquisitor; after all, what's the worst that could happen?"

He stepped up to his power suit, turned around, and leaned his back into it; causing it to envelop him within its protective cocoon as I did the same. Before putting his helmet on he looked to me and chuckled cynically, "I'll assume that question was meant to be rhetorical and spare you the fifteen minute dissertation."


End file.
